There and Back Again
by Jess S1
Summary: During the summer after fourth year, Harry unwittingly makes a wish... which takes him to another world. He needs to find a way home, but he also has to decide where his home really is... LOTR/HP Discontinued for Revision. THIS VERSION WILL NOT BE CONTINUED.
1. Prologue: Blow Out the Candles

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

****

There and Back Again

Prologue: Blow Out the Candles

By Jess S

If you traveled to Privet Drive, in Surrey, London, you'd probably find the place rather dull. Exceptionally so... For there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. In fact it was probably the most _normal_ street you'd ever see... To all outward appearances, the house on number four Privet Drive was no exception. 

But, it was an exception. 

For inside this two story house with it's perfectly coordinated gardens and it's frightfully _dull_ shutters, lived the Dursley, who were perfectly happy within it's walls... and their nephew, Harry Potter, who'd never been the least bit happy there.

Granted, Harry's life was somewhat more pleasant there _now_, as he now had the smallest bedroom to himself, instead of the cupboard under the stairs, where'd he slept every night for the first eleven years of his life. Another plus was that Harry was now allowed to keep his school things, and do his homework, in his room, so long as he never spoke of it or anything like it outside that room while in the Dursley's residence.

Now... most would find that idea rather strange.

One, it meant that Harry _wanted_ to do his homework, and two, it meant that his relatives _didn't_ want him to. That was undoubtedly the polar opposite of the situation most children, and teenagers in particular, find at home...

But Harry wasn't a normal teenager, as you might be able to tell from walking into his room. For his bedroom, with all of his belongings inside, didn't fit in with the rest of the house anymore than Harry himself fit in with the Dursleys. 

There were an extraordinary number of unusual things in his room. A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of the bed, with a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, assorted spell books and similar items inside. Rolls of parchment took up a large part of his desk, and a large, empty cage took up the rest.

Seem odd yet? 

Well, there actually a very simple, yet very complicated explanation for all of this.

Harry Potter, was a wizard. An under-age wizard, which was part of the reason he had to stay with his relatives every summer when he wasn't attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The other part of that explanation was that Harry wasn't a normal wizard either. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, who had been responsible for the Dark Lord Voldemort's first downfall, and one of the few who believed that that same lord had returned. He couldn't really think otherwise, he had seen it. He had been needed as part of the magical ceremony to create a new body for the Dark Lord's spirit, the only thing that had survived his first meeting with the Potter's child. Which was why Harry himself had been needed, many, including Voldemort himself, believed Harry to be Voldemort's greatest enemy, and as such, his blood was needed to reform the Dark Lord's body.

Harry had just barely managed to escape death at the newly resurrected Dark Lord's wand, but the one who had accompanied him, the other Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, had not been so lucky...

At the moment, Harry was staring at the clock on his nightstand, which currently read 11:45 p.m. This was, in a way, a tradition for Harry. For it was presently the 30th of July, and his birthday was fifteen minutes away. 

This tradition had really been rather pointless in his youth, as the Dursleys would never make it an enjoyable experience. If he was lucky they'd forget, and wouldn't have to listen to them talk on and on about how grateful he should be to them, while they handed him more hand-me-downs.

But, when he'd started attending Hogwarts that had changed. Now, his friends always made it somewhat enjoyable, because they always made sure he heard from them, and they always sent him rather touching gifts...

Harry suddenly looked away from the clock, and out the window, to see what appeared to be a veritable _flock_ of owls soaring towards his window. Needless to say, he was startled, but nonetheless opened the window all the way and jumped back as they flew in. 

The first few, among whom he could see his own snowy white owl, Hedwig, flew in and perched themselves atop Hedwig's cage, which was on his desk. Harry quickly dashed over to the desk and scooped the many rolls of parchment off, and pulled out the chair, so some could land there. He dumped the parchment in his trunk, to find two owls perched on the rim, and the other's had landed on his bed, most of them on the rails. One perched on the windowsill.

A moment later, all was silent.

Harry stared at his late night visitors. He recognized a few of them. His own owl, Hedwig, was perched atop her cage beside Errol, the Weasley families main owl, Hermes, Ron's older brother (one of them); Percy's, and Pig, who was the only owl who hadn't landed, and was instead flying around his room, up by the ceiling, excitedly. Another owl looked like one of the Hogwarts' messengers, and another looked like a Ministry owl... but the... seven others he didn't know.

Shaking his head, he went and relieved Hedwig of her relatively heavy burden. A letter and a package. Opening it, he smiled, and began reading.

__

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! How has your summer been so far? I do hope your relatives aren't treating you poorly. I've been exchanging letters with Victor for most of the summer, and I've been following the Daily Prophet – to keep myself up-to-date in the Wizarding world (and make sure that 'Beetle' keeps her word). Would you like me to send you a subscription? 

How has your scar been lately? Are you sleeping well? If you aren't, you should probably write the Headmaster, and ask him for some dreamless sleeping potions and what-not. I'm sorry if I sound like a worry-wart, it's just that there's only a month left till school starts, and, as much as you don't like staying with your relatives, you should try to enjoy the holiday – and I doubt that's really possible if you can't get a decent night's sleep.

I do hope you like your present... I made one for Ron too, I know both of you are always saying that I put far too much emphasis on learning and what-not, but this should be incredibly useful... if it works... (It's basically every book in the Hogwarts library, enchanted into one, single book. Madame Pince even let me include the Restricted Section!... but don't tell anyone, okay? –Ron in particular!) If there's anything wrong with yours, owl me. 

Ron suggested that we meet up in Diagon Alley again, the third weekend of the month. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!

Love from, 

****

Hermione

Harry glanced at the magical tome and shook his head. As peculiar as he found it, he could only imagine what Ron's reaction probably was... Still, she was right, it could be very useful... although how she'd managed to convince Madame Pince to allow it was beyond him...

He smiled, shaking his head before turning to catch Pig and relieve him of Ron's package, then he relieved the other owls he recognized as part of the Weasley family (Errol & Hermes) of their burdens. Afterward, he unfolded he letter Pig'd been carrying, and began reading;

__

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

How's your summer been? The Dursley's haven't been too rotten have they? Mum and Dad said you I could invite you to the Burrow for the last two weeks of the month, that way we can go to Diagon Alley together. If you want, I could try to convince them to let you come earlier... Shouldn't be all that hard. No offense, but they really don't like you're relatives! Well, anyway, don't let them get you down!

Did Hermione really send you that big book for your birthday? It's awful strange (don't tell her I said that!) I can't get mine to work... Anyway, I hope you like your presents, everyone wanted to send you one, I hope you don't mind, but I think my families decided to adopt you... Ginny made us all color the ribbons differently, to tell you know who they're from without having to worry about tags (they're usually a waste of time (the tags) – they fall off during delivery 80% of the time!)

With Errol;

White – Mum & Dad

With Pig;

Red – Fred & George (be careful when you open that one, they actually found someone to back Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, so they've made a bunch of new stuff for it, and I'm not sure how safe it all is...

Gold – Me

With Hermes; 

Orange – Percy

Pink – Ginny

With... I don't know what owl's they're using; 

Dark Green – Charlie

Light Green – Bill

They're notes with the packages too, but, I honestly didn't want you to be too shocked by whatever Fred & George sent you... some of the presents they've given me for my birthday... 

Well, anyway, hope to hear from you soon! 

Bye –

Ron

Harry shook his head, and, chuckling, turned to the first package. He smiled and picked up the box with a white ribbon. Upon opening it, he found a package of fudge, and another package, which held a chocolate-frosted cake with the words 'Happy Birthday Harry!' decorating the top. When he opened the cake box, fifteen candles appeared on the cake and lit themselves, and he could hear the Weasley's singing, with the volume obviously turned down – she'd probably figured that it'd be rather late when he got this, and didn't want him to get in trouble with the Dursleys.

__

"Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday deeaar Harrry...

Happy Birthday to you!"

He smiled, touched more deeply by what was probably a combination of rather simple charms than most would willingly admit. Seeing that the candles didn't melt, so they wouldn't harm the cake, he placed it on his bedside table.

Still smiling, he picked up another present, this one was a small box with a pink ribbon, '_Ginny..._' Harry recalled. Carefully undoing the delicate ribbon, he peeled back the parchment to reveal; a small wooden box, which was actually very appealing in itself, as the carvings in the wood work were rather impressive. When he picked the box up a key appeared in the keyhole along the side, so he turned it, then opened the lid. Inside, was what looked like a small crystal ball. Curious, he carefully removed the ball from it's cushioned container and was somewhat surprised when a transparent version of Ginny's head appeared inside the globe.

"Hi Harry!" she smiled, "This is an Alitum Globe... it's like a penseive, but easier to travel with. Ron mentioned that you might be having trouble sleeping because of nightmares, and I thought this might help. I have one, it helped me after my the Chamber..." she blushed, "I hope you like it! To use it, all you have to do is get into a comfortable position, hold it in both hands, in front of you... take deep breaths, and just... think. I know it sounds crazy, but it really does work! To look back at what went into the globe you just hold it in front of your face, in the palm of one hand, and say, 'Reminiscori', then it will show you everything from the most recent one, backward until you tell it to stop. To stop it, you just say, 'Cease'... Actually, to start it, the first time, you just say 'Reminiscori' but you should add a password, so you say 'Reminiscori' – whatever your password is. That way, no one can look at it without your permission... To change the password, you just say; 'Abeo password – what your current password is,' then you say 'password – what the new password is." she smiled, "I hope you like it, bye! And Happy Birthday!" 

Then the ball was clear once again. 

Harry stared at it for a few minutes, rather awed, before smiling. It was a very thoughtful gift, and it must be pretty good, considering how quickly Ginny seemed to recover from the Chamber of Secrets.

Still smiling, he carefully placed it back in its box, locking it, and placing the key in the compartment that had appeared along the side.

He then turned and picked up another present. It was Percy's present – orange ribbon – and it looked and felt like a book. Unwrapping it, he found that it was just that. But it wasn't quite as dull as he'd originally expected, one was a book on Pre-Auror training, 'Constant Vigilance!' by Alastor Moody. Because of Crouch Jr., Harry had never really met the man who was supposed to teach DADA last school year, but judging from the act Crouch held as an imposter to look unsuspicious, Mad-Eye Moody would have probably been a pretty good teacher. Who knows? Maybe they'd have the actual Moody for DADA in fifth year. But it'd probably be pretty interesting to see the man's opinions of his former job. Another book seemed to be an Apparition-prep book.

Setting the book aside – it didn't have a card, just a bookmark that said 'Happy Birthday' –, next to Hermione's tome, he picked up another gift.

This one had a rather odd shape, that and the red ribbon left no doubt in Harry's mind that this was the twin's gift. He got up and walked to the middle of the room, sitting down on the floor and setting the gift on the floor before cautiously undoing the ribbon and pulling back the parchment wrapping. Inside he found a collection of boxes that were all labeled as; '**_Weasleys Wizard Wheezes!_**'.

Going through them, Harry grinned. The twins seemed to have sent him a bit of everything. Fake wands, trick sweets... you name it, they had it! Shaking his head, he picked up the note that was on top of them.

**__**

The Founders, Inventors and Managers of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, would hereby liked to wish our 'anonymous patron' a wicked birthday, feel free to use these to ensure it is! 

Sincerely ~ **Fred & George Weasley**

PS; Don't worry, we haven't forgotten our promise! We'll buy ickle Ronniekins a new robe when we go to Diagon Alley at the end of the summer! ^_~

Harry chuckled, before turning to another owl, this one was... a rather _strange_ one. The present it was carrying was from one of the Weasley's; a small box with a light green ribbon – which meant that it was from Bill. He quickly unwrapped the small package, to reveal what appeared to be a miniature trunk, with a glowing red button on top.

He offered the water dish to the owl, who hooted gratefully, then turned back to the tiny trunk.

Harry looked at it for a moment, then – ignoring the little voice in the back of his head – he pushed the little red button.

The button went dark, then the whole trunk began to glow, it rose out of his palms, into the air, and a moment later a gleaming, regular sized trunk was on the floor in front of him.

The Boy-Who-Lived blinked, before opening the note that accompanied the trunk. 

__

Dear Harry, 

I thought this might come in handy. It's a Gringotts' trunk – bottomless and weightless! It can take just about anything, and you can make it shrink to any size, from any size you want... it's weightless no matter what you put in it, and you'll never have trouble finding stuff inside it! It also has the normal feature;

- Watertight/proof & it will float

- Fireproof (if you were stuck in a burning house you could climb into it and shut it and come out fine! There's a key to the latch on the inside, so you wouldn't be stuck there...)

- There's a 'notice-me-not' feature you can activate too... Basically it just means people would see it, but they wouldn't pay it any mind... So if someone broke in your house to steal stuff (Muggle or Wizard) they wouldn't even think to look in the trunk or take it! Only people who are looking for it specifically would really notice it.

- Umm... Oh yeah! You can tell it to change the crests whenever you want to, to. So if you want it to look like a Hogwarts trunk now, you just put your wand in the key hole, and picture the Hogwarts' crest in your mind, and it will change from the Gringotts crests to that... If you want to change it afterwards, you can.... You probably should change it from the Gringotts' crest... the Goblin's are very suspicious creatures by nature, so it's just easier to try avoiding conflict... You can come up with a personalized crest too... You can make one yourself, or let it think of one, just put your want and the keyhole, and think of... either what you want the crest to be, or you.

Hope it helps. Happy Birthday!

Sincerely,

****

Bill Weasley

PS: There's a chain mechanism inside it, for when you want to shrink it down to locket size, it'll come out so you can wear it.

Harry stared at the trunk, more than a little awed. Now that would certainly come in handy! He shook his head, thought about a minute, and then started moving his other belongings from his Hogwarts trunk and around his room, into his new trunk. 

Half an hour later, everything was inside that trunk, with the exception of the parcels each owl still carried, and the birthday cake, which was now on top of his closed school trunk.

He then turned to another peculiar owl, it was a relatively large owl, around fifteen inches (38.1cm), with a wingspan of about forty inches (101.6cm). It's feathers were a deep shade of brown with darker markings all over its body, and it had dark brown tufts near the center of its forehead and a light brown facial disk. It blinked at him with large yellow eyes as he offered the water dish to it (Bill's owl had already left), before hooting in thanks and bending over to drink.

He then opened the package it carried, which was also from one of the Weasleys, it had a dark green ribbon – so it was from Charlie. He pulled the note out, and read.

__

Dear Harry,

How are you? Doing well I hope. It's been a bit dull down here, I think the Dragons are hibernating or something – the hot weather sometimes knocks them out for awhile... Anyway, Happy Birthday! I thought these might come in handy, and they're pretty cool too! ^_~

Sincerely, 

****

Charlie Weasley

PS: There's a personalization charm on them, so they'll reshape themselves and grow or shrink to fit you as soon as you touch them. Plus, they're spelled to grow with you – and they can endure almost anything! 

Harry blinked and then began unrolling the paper package. 

Inside was a pair of dragon-hide boots, gloves and what looked like a wand holster. He picked the boots, which looked rather large, up, and almost dropped them when they began to shrink. A moment later they looked like they'd fit him perfectly. When he picked up the gloves and the wand holster, they did the same thing. 

Harry shook his head. He had to hand it to the Weasley's they sure knew what could come in handy! These weren't cheep, but Charlie probably had the advantage of working with Dragons too...

He shook his head, carefully placing the items in his new trunk. Then, he decided to try personalizing the trunk, like Bill had said. He pulled out his wand and put it in the keyhole, and closed his eyes, trying to think of what he pictured himself to be like.

He didn't see it, but after a moment the trunk began to glow again, and the medal crests began to change. Finally, they turned into a golden lion, with a silver snake wrapped loosely around it's neck, behind his initials; _H.P._, which were embossed atop them in a white-gold, and a deeper, golden lightning bolt was behind all of them.

Harry opened his eyes a moment later, and frowned upon seeing the lightning bolt... it seemed he could never escape it...

With a sigh, he willed the trunk to shrink, and it turned into a necklace with a miniature-trunk/locket on it, just like Bill said it would, and he snatched it out of midair with little difficulty (thanks to his Seeker reflexes) and put it on. This was helpful for one thing at the moment, at least now he didn't have to worry about the Dursleys taking his stuff away. They hadn't been that bad so far, but they'd threatened to lock it up a few times. He walked back over to his bed again, picking his birthday cake up along the way, and set it on his bedside table.

He glanced at the clock again; 11:55... In five minutes, he'd be fifteen.

Before he could think of anything else, he doubled over as waves of raw pain erupted from his scar. He knew what this was, his scar – a remnant from his first encounter with the Dark Lord, on the Halloween night after his first birthday, when he'd survived the Avada Kedavra curse, cast by Voldemort himself – was, as far as he could tell, a permanent connection to the Dark Lord. Whenever Voldemort was; nearby, exceptionally pleased or exceptionally angry, Harry felt it through his scar. But that knowledge didn't help him.

The pain was worse this time. It got worse every time it happened. He hadn't told anyone that. He also had yet to tell anyone that Voldemort himself knew about the link, and had become accustom to 'playing' with him from time to time.

This, undoubtedly, was Voldemort's idea of a birthday present...

PAIN... 

He fought it... he couldn't let him win...

He heard the clock beeping faintly. Midnight. He was fifteen years old...

He had to make his wish...

On his birthday cake...

He staggered slightly as he pulled himself over toward the head of the bed, until he was sitting right up by his bedside table, looking down at his birthday cake. 

He could just barely see it through the pain, a collection of tiny, flickering lights.

"M-Make a wish, Harry..." he muttered weakly to himself, and he did...

He wished the pain would stop… he wanted to be some place he could feel loved… 

And before he could finish that thought, the pain from his scar intensified, so that he could see or feel nothing else, but as he was dragged into that pain... he just barely managed to heave a great breath in, and blow… 

The candles' flames flickered, and went out... and then the candles themselves started to glow...

Harry didn't see the candles glow…

He didn't feel himself rising off the floor...   
  
~ * ~

Lady Galadriel sighed as she made her way into the grove where her mirror lay dormant, as it had, in truth, for many ages. It was truly only force of habit that brought her back every day. Habit, and duty.

Embarenya had changed long ago, and it would undoubtedly do so once again. But, for now, both the Mirror and the world it viewed were, for the most part, hibernating.

She moved over to the fountain on the far side of the pool, picking up the silver pitcher and filling it, she then walked back over to her mirror, slowly pouring the crystalline liquid in with an ease and grace bought by centuries of practice. When it was properly filled, she set the pitcher aside, and stood in front of the mirror again. 

Galadriel gazed into its silvery depths awaiting any images it might offer. It showed some of the past she knew, and some of a past she did not... 

After a short time, she shook her head, and began to draw back from the mirror, a new ripple broke its surface. She blinked in surprise, returning her attention to its surface, as the image began to clear.

A moment later a happy, young, human family appeared in the silver cast. A young woman with brilliant red locks and green-eyes, and a young, raven-haired man with a peculiar contraption on his face, playing with a beautiful baby. The child had the father's hair and the mother's eyes. They sat in an elegantly furnished living room, laughing and smiling.

The Lady of Lothlórien smiled softly as she watched what appeared to be a typical evening for the young family. However, that smile, was quickly replaced by a frown. 

The Mirror usually allowed her to view the setting before the actual event that was important, at least when it was as clear as this. The images were rarely clear, but anything as clear as this, was important. And this wonderful scene of a perfect, happy family, was the perfect setting, for a tragedy...

The Lady Elf was drawn out of her thoughts as both of the child's parents in the vision looked up, apparently having heard something, and the man rose to his feet, the woman quickly following, holding her child protectively.

The man moved out of sight, and a moment later a look of alarm crossed the woman's face as she spun around, and the vision switched to show the young man in front of her, turning as she closed the door. Then the vision switched back to the woman as she held her child tightly, as a burst of green light slammed the door open. 

That light, Galadriel sensed, had been an evil spell, which was only confirmed by the grief and terror in the young woman's eyes as she, after placing her child on the floor, partially hidden, turned toward the door face as a new man, a dark man, entered.

This man was indeed very dark, and very evil. 

Evil enough that the Lady of Lórien momentarily wondered if this was a vision of long ago, and this a family that Sauron had taken care of personally. 

But no, it couldn't be. As evil as the man was, he didn't seem as evil as she remembered, and knew, the Dark Lord of Mordor to be. 

Furthermore, the home these people lived in looked nothing like any home she'd seen in the world of Men. 

'_So it must be a vision of the future... or another world._' She though, fighting to remain emotionally detached from the first interesting vision she'd received in decades...

As strange as it may sound, Galadriel had occasionally been offered glimpses of other worlds, but they'd never been as clear, or terrible, as this.

All this flew through the Immortal Queen's mind as the woman pleaded with the dark man, clearly begging him to not harm her son.

The dark man listened to the dark man for a moment, evidently finding her pleas quite amusing, but when she turned toward a nearby table – to grab a slender, willow stick, Galadriel noted – he raised a long yew stick he'd been carrying. The dark man then annunciated two words with practiced precision, a cruel smile was the only feature on his face that wasn't shadowed by his hood.

A burst of green light, identical to the one that had blasted the door down and undoubtedly claimed the life of the young man who'd been guarding it, erupted from the end of the stick. Only this time it charged at the young woman, surrounding her and charging through her while spinning her around, to reveal a look of complete agony on her lovely face. A moment later, the green light faded, and the young woman fell, dead.

Galadriel's eyes widened as the man then turned to the infant who'd just witnessed his – she wasn't sure how, but she knew it was a boy – mother's death.   
  
~ * ~  
  
Once again, Harry was surrounded by that familiar, thick, white fog, which was pierced only by his mother's desperate pleas. 

__

His father's voice, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! I'll hold him off!–"

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room – a door bursting open – a cackle of high-pitched laughter –

His mother's voice... "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything–"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, **now**..."

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy..."Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–"

"*Avada Kedavra!*"

His mother's scream of agony...

Agony...  
  
~ * ~

"Le ve laa, mae govannen, Heru Elrond, Heri Arwen," {You are, of course, most welcome, Lord Elrond, Lady Arwen,} Lord Cereborn nodded, to them, smiling as he led his son-in-law and his granddaughter toward the grove, where he knew his lady undoubtedly was. Gazing into her mirror. 

"Hannon le, Heru Cereborn, Haldir," {Thank you, Lord Cereborn, Haldir,} Elrond nodded, "Nyar nin, maar ta–" {Tell me, how is–}

  
Suddenly a scream of pain and anguish came from not far ahead of them, followed shortly by an eruption of deep green, light that felt incredibly dark to the four elves.   
  
This of course woke all of the nearby populace, but the four who'd first heard it paid them no heed as they hurried toward the scream's origin.   
  
They were more than a little surprised, when they came to the grove where the Mirror resided, to see the Lady of Lothlórien kneeling by her mirror, her expression one of sheer torture, that deep green light rising from her Mirror.  
  
"Melda nin?" Cereborn called, as he hurried down the steps, followed closely by his arms commander (Haldir) and their visitors.   
  
Slowly the green light faded and the mirrors surface smoothed over, completely blank. Just as serene and perfect as it had always seemed in dormancy.   
  
"Man ta raika?" {What is wrong?} Cereborn continued, catching his wife as she fell away from the Mirror's pedestal.

The Lady's deep gasps were all that broke the utter silence that held the clearing for the next several minutes.   
  
~ * ~  
  
Arwen stared at her grandmother, stunned.   
  
Galadriel had always seemed so… immortal… untouchable… but now…  
  
Now… the Lady of Lothlórien was quite disheveled, sweat coating her brow, which was tense and creased with pain and worry. Her skin was pale, far more so than usual. And it was her eyes that truly frightened the Lady of Rivendell.   
  
Galadriel cerulean orbs, always filled with incredible compassion, understanding and wisdom, now held pain, worry and confusion.   
  
~ * ~  
  
"Galadriel?"  
  
The Lady of Lothlórien struggled for a moment, before managing to force her eyes open.   
  
"Galadriel?" Cereborn repeated, "Melda nin? Na le maar?" {Are you all right?}

  
"Laa, melda nin," she shook her head, closing her eyes a moment. That had been awful! And he was only a child! '_Seldo!_' {A child!} She fought back the tears that rose to her eyes at the thought. Her own daughter had departed for the Gray Haven not long before now, and there would always be some part of her that missed her. 

  
There was more to it than that though.   
  
The Elves longevity did not come without a price. And that price was in the precious few children born to them. While the birth of a child was an almost common occurrence to the other races of Middle Earth, the Elves rarely enjoyed that blessing. Each century a precious few youths were born to the immortals, and as such, the Elves were very protective of their offspring. Children meant more to them then any other race could possibly understand...  
  
All Elves shared a bond with nature. An empathy with it that bordered on telepathy and some, Galadriel among them, even managed to achieve that ability as well.   
  
But all Elves had that ability within their families, making them able to communicate without words or any external signals. It was this gift that often made other races think the Elves uncaring toward one another. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. And it was a gift that the Elves treasured almost as much as they treasured their children. For it gave them the ability to understand and protect their kin on a level that other races couldn't begin to comprehend…  
  
But on the rare occurrence that an Elf was killed, their family and friends felt that death on that same level. Which then became a level of torment no other race could understand, nor should they _ever_ want to….  
  
Galadriel was drawn out of her thoughts by a faint tugging at the back of her mind, which had gone numb after witnessing that atrocious vision and experiencing the child's torment. It took her a moment to recognize it, and it gave her quite a start when she did. She knew what it was. She knew everything that came to pass into and within her wood.  
  
There was someone new in Lothlórien. Someone who she didn't recognize, but felt she should, for they felt quite familiar…  
  
From that, the sorceress started once again. For there was only one person that this could be.   
  
~ * ~  
  
"Galadriel?" Cereborn asked again, shaking her slightly, then stepping back quickly as she leapt to her feet. "Melda nin? Man ta raika?" {Beloved? What's wrong?}

  
The Lady of Lothlórien didn't appear to notice his question, nor did she acknowledge their presence as she hurried from the grove with astonish speed. (AN: Especially when taking into account the clothes she wears!)

Cereborn, Elrond, Arwen and Haldir looked at each other, puzzled, before hurrying after her.  
  
~ * ~  
  
After what seemed to the young wizard an eternity of pain, he was finally released.   
  
Harry didn't have any strength whatsoever. He couldn't stand any more then he could open his eyes. Consequently, he fell to the ground, completely unconscious.   
  
His brain, exhausted and distressed, didn't even register that it wasn't his bedroom floor that he fell to, but the riverbed of a stream, not far from the moss-covered ground of the very old, magical forest it flowed into.   
  
~ * ~  
  
Cereborn, Haldir, Elrond and Arwen were growing more puzzled and more worried as they sped after the Lady of Lothlórien.   
  
They weren't far from the forest's edge now, which was evidently her intent. That, in itself, was puzzling, for the Lady hardly ever left the wood.  
  
The Lady had not slowed down at all, and in her almost panicked haste they couldn't manage to catch her.   
  
~ * ~  
  
Galadriel was breathing in short gasps, which were quite uncharacteristic of her, as she reached the forests edge, and stopped, her eyes scanning the area.  
  
She didn't even notice when the four who'd been trailing her barely managed to stop themselves in time to prevent a collision.  
  
What she did see, was the body of a young boy, in rather unusual clothes, surrounded by several curious items.  
  
She hurried over to them, taking no notice of the four winded elves behind her, or the others that were not far behind.   
  
~ * ~  
  
"Man ta heri tyarole?" {What is she doing?} Arwen asked, still breathing heavily, as they watched her grandmother step out of the forest and glide over to the river side. She blinked, "Man ta yana?" {What's that}

Cereborn sighed, "Ta veela nosse nin arwan sinya mellon..." {It looks like, we have another guest.} He replied, before following his wife, the others in his wake.

  
When they reached Galadriel and their 'new guest', they found the Lady of Lothlórien kneeling by his sighed, murmuring words of healing while cradling the young boy's head in her lap.  
  
"Atan?" {A human?} Arwen murmured, surprised.

  
The others nodded in agreement.  
  
"Man Atan na sinome?" {What would a human be doing here?} the Elven princess shook her head, "E kena nin seldo!" {He looks like a child!}

"E ta seldo..." {He is a child…}

  
The others jumped, surprised at the Lady's sudden speech.  
  
"Ista nin i chên, melda nin?" {You know him, beloved?} Cereborn asked with a frown.

  
"Ista nin," {I do,} Galadriel nodded, "E ta selda, dan Ilatan..." {He is a child, but not a Human…}

  
"Hwæt?" {What?} Arwen blinked, "Dan… Man naan er e na?" {But... What else could he be?}

"E ta Istar." {He is a wizard.}

  
~ * ~  
  
"Dan..." Arwen shook her head, "Dan, e na... seldo e–"{But, he's... _a child_... He–}

"E ilta o Embarenya..." {He is not of our world...} Galadriel replied softly. "Mi înnor, na limbe kuruvar, ar e esse istima uuve nessa...."{In his world, there are many wizards, and they begin training very young....} She stopped, and turned toward the bed where their young charge lay.

A moment later, the boy moaned, and seemed to struggle with opening his eyes. 

When he managed it, the Lady of Light smiled gently, and greeted him. "Welcome to Lothlórien, Harry Potter."  
  
  
  
End Prologue.

AN: Hi! That's all for now! ^_^ How was it? 

Just as a little warning; I try when it comes to Elvish, but I am by _no_ means fluent. Most of this I'm using a dictionary for and fudging a little bit... One thing that annoys me to no end, however, is that there is no Elvish word for "yes". I find that extremely annoying. If you know of one please tell me. I haven't been able to find it.

Anyway, I hope you liked it! ^_^

REVIEW!

Translations:

Reminiscori – to call to mind/recollect/remember. (Latin)

Abeo – to change (Latin)

Elvish:

Embarenya – Middle-Earth

Melda nin – beloved

Dan – but

Man – Interrogative "what"

Hwæt – Surprised "what"/specific [I may be wrong about that...]

[Did I leave any out that weren't translated?]

PLEASE REVIEW!

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...please?

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S


	2. Chapter 1: Lembale

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

****

There and Back Again

Chapter 1: Lembale

By Jess S

It was early morning, the suns rays having just appeared on the horizon, just barely piercing the leafy treetops of Caras Galadon, mingling with the quiet mist that embraced the ancient trees, which were outlined by tiny, glimmering Elvish lights.   
  
One person, however, had risen some time before, and now stood on a balcony to his personal chambers, high up in the treetops, just watching as the Galadrim woke. He appeared perfectly comfortable with his surroundings, and apparently belonged there.   
  
That in itself was peculiar. For Caras Galadon, often called 'the heart of Elvendom on Earth', was the home of the Elves of Lothlórien, ruled by Lady Galadriel and Lord Cereborn. The Elves, an immortal people, rarely welcomed mortals into their homes, they were gracious hosts, courteous and wise to the point of which most mortals could not comprehend. It was for that reason that humans rarely set foot in the Galadrim. It was the reason Lothlórien's borders were well protected against such an occurrence, both by Elven guards and the stories the Elves encouraged to be spread amongst the mortals, increasing their suspicions and keeping them away from the ancient sanctuary.   
  
Yet this young man, was undoubtedly a man...

At first glance, you could certainly mistake him for one of the Elven race. He bore the same innate grace, elegance, striking appearance and charm the Elves were famed for, but he was undoubtedly a man. He even had the glowing, elegantly sculpted features and carefully proportioned, honed muscles the Elves prided themselves on. 

You would then, of course, assume that he was certainly a _young_ man, but not if you looked into his eyes.  
  
Deep, seemingly bottomless pools of emerald, mingling fae lights with soft shadows. Eyes that could pierce your soul, and know all in a glance. Eyes that were filled with many things, a world of knowledge, learned from experience, a wisdom that was rarely seen in mortals, for only one who has viewed many ages could possibly attain it.   
  
Harry Potter, once known as 'the-Boy-Who-Lived', was now a prince of the Elves.   
  
It hadn't been long (relatively [AN: Elven 'not long', not human 'not long'.... I don't know about you, but in my mind there's a difference]) after his arrival that it had become obvious that Harry himself _was_ an immortal, at least in this world. 

Lord Cereborn had theorized that it was simply because he wasn't born in this world, so he technically didn't belong here, and therefore would not age.   
  
It was ironic in itself, but the only theory they'd come across in all the time he'd been there. Which was a long time, several centuries, in fact. The theory wasn't entirely correct, proven in the fact that he had grown slightly taller, and his voice had changed while training with his new kin had developed his muscles and reflexes. This, of course, may have simply been the result of heavy training (he'd been obsessed with it for a time; as a way to take his mind off his predicament), and the fact that he'd been living a much healthier life here could have affected him as well. 

Not long after he'd been there, immortal to all appearances, Lady Galadriel and Lord Cereborn had made the decision to adopt him, offering a proper home amongst the Elves, a home on Middle Earth. And so, he'd become the Prince of Lothlórien. Not that many people knew of this fact. His identity, and everything about him, was one of the Golden Wood's most prized secrets. Middle Earth, outside of the Elves of Lothlórien themselves, Lord Elrond, his family and his council, no one knew of Harry's existence.  
  
"Valina arin, Elerossë." {Good morning, Harry. [AN: technically; 'happy morning'... I couldn't find a better word!]}

  
Harry turned, and smiled as the Lady of Lothlórien came up beside him. "Valina arin, heri amil nin." {Good morning, my lady mother.} He replied, bowing respectfully, as he had been taught and felt was proper. Elerossë Tinehtelë was his Elvish name, chosen for him by the very lady who stood before him now, who he addressed as both respected lady and beloved mother.

  
It had taken some time (nearly two decades), but after a great deal of studying and practice, with the help of his new friends and family, Harry had managed to learn the language and customs of the Elves… And had come to accept them as his own.  
  
"Maar ta le?" {How are you?} Galadriel asked, her silver-blue eyes gazing into his.

  
That was another thing that was different. Before, no one could really meet his gaze, not so directly, because his glasses always got in the way. However, his glasses had been broken on his rough journey to Middle Earth, leaving him blind. Once they realized that Harry really couldn't see anything, the Elves had endeavored to change that… and succeeded. By the skills of Lady Galadriel and her son-in-law, the knowledge of Lord Cereborn, and the support of Lady Arwen, Harry had obtained flawless vision.  
  
"Maar, hannon le." {Fine, thank you} He replied quietly.  
  
The Lady of Light raised a silvery eyebrow. "A?" {Oh?} She asked, holding his gaze.  
  
After a moment, Harry looked away.  
  
Lady Galadriel sighed, and shook her head, "Feren uume moru mile lyaa, Elerossë." {Please don't hide inside yourself, Harry." She beseeched him quietly, extending her pale hand and gently turning his head towards her, to meet his eyes once more. "Le ista ne sin yana ta ilanwa. Ananta ta er yala qualmele." {You should no by now that it isn't truly possible. And it only brings suffering.}

  
After a moment, Harry nodded. "Laa, heri amil nin, edhored nin." {Of course, mother, forgive me.}  
  
"Ú-moe edhored." {There is nothing to forgive.} She replied softly, releasing him. "Sii le nyarya nin," {Now tell me,} she continued, "Man ta nwalyale le?" {What is bothering you?}

  
Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Uya hanya nin..." {I don't know…} he replied, sincerely. "Na nin... wanwa... il... uuwanwa, er..." {I feel… lost... no… not lost, only…} 

  
"Raika men?" {Misplaced?} his foster mother offered.

  
Immediately, he shook his head, "Illaika," {Not exactly,} he sighed, "Nin... ilista nin..." {I… I don't know…}

  
Galadriel sighed, offering a sad smile. "Ta ne er teera yana le ne etmen sinome, Elerossë." {It is only natural that you feel out of place here, Harry.} She offered. "En ta ilnat raika o tanya." {There is nothing wrong with that.}

  
Harry shook his head, "Ista... er ta anwale ilta yana... Vanwa kaimasse o mar ando wanwa nin..." {I know… and it really isn't that… I got over the homesickness a long time ago…}

She continued to watch him for several minutes before sighing, and shaking her head. "Noa nin le faare ampenda e sinome." {I think you may simply feel trapped here.} She raised a hand to forestall his protest, "Ta noore, otorno nin le. Mi anwa, ta er karne le ve Quendelie... nosse nin termara ve martle." {It's quite natural, I assure you. In fact, it only makes you more like us... Some of my people experience a similar feeling.} The Lady of Light sighed, meeting her foster son's vivid eyes, so unlike any she'd ever seen before, a treasure beyond compare, hiding the pain she knew he hid deep within his mind. "Noa nin ta ambapenda thaed le... Renich nin anwa minlû palya le ve mi kenale ilya o Embarenya..." {I think that perhaps travel would help you... If I recall correctly, you once expressed an interest in seeing the rest of Middle Earth...} She offered.

Harry frowned, and, after a pensive moment, nodded.

~ * ~

"~" {I would be honored to accompany our prince, milady.} Haldir of Lothlórien replied, bowing deeply to the Elven Queen. 

Galadriel nodded, smiling slightly. "~" {Very well then...} she then turned her eyes to her foster son, "~} {I hope you find what you're looking for, my son.} She murmured, bending down slightly to place a gentle kiss on his brow, right above his scar. "" {Farewell...}

A short time later, Harry and his friend – and (he suspected) bodyguard – left their home, and proceeded north, toward Imladris, where their quest would begin.

End of Chapter 1.

AN: Yes, I know; unbelievable short... I was going to continue, but that didn't fit the title, (and I didn't want to talk about traveling _too_ much... you'll see them on the rode occasionally [where it has relevance,] but I'll try to avoid it...

I got Harry's name from Chris Wetherell's Elvish Name Generator (), I didn't make it up... I think it sounds pretty cool though... And if you think about it, the Elves would have to give him a name; considering they adopted him and he's lived with them for many centuries. I won't refer to him by his Elvish name, it'll only be used when it has relevance/whoever call's him it is talking in Elvish. (Btw, that site is pretty cool. You give it a name and it changes it into and Elvish name... I don't know how, it just does. There's also a link to a 'Hobbits Name Generator', which I found very amusing... Some of the HP characters names are _really_ funny in both languages...)

Response to Reviews;

Ox King – Thank you... We won't see much Middle Earth's reaction to 'the _young_ wizard' for awhile, I'll tell you that, but there'll be some in the next few chapters... The reaction of specific people he decides to tell. But, other than that, it's a closely guarded secret (for now, anyway). 

Angie – Thank you. ^_^

Sarah – Thanks! LOL, I'm glad. I spent a long time working on that particular part of the chapter. Once he was at Middle Earth all I really had to worry about was translations, it was getting him there that was the problem! Sorry about the wait. 

Khari – LOL, gracias. You really think so? I've always liked Galadriel... Mucho gracias, y su inglés es no malo. ¡Mejore que mi español! (It took me nearly half-an-hour to come up with that! How is it? I'm only in Spanish 3 at school and the program isn't that good, so it probably isn't very good...)

I'm glad you liked it. How was this chapter? I know it was short, but it's a start. ^_^

RioRaptor – ^_^* Sorry about the wait.

Busso – ^_^ Thank you very much. Sorry about the wait! 

Jessyka – LOL, sorry about the wait. I know this isn't much of an update, but I'm working on the next chapter, so it should be out soon. LOL, you'd probably have a few problems with Flooing to my house and hexing me; (1) my fireplace is very small, and (2) there's almost always a fire in it... Thank you very much. ^_^

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^ (And sorry for the wait... The next chapter will probably be out soon, because I have a lot more spare time – Summer break!!! :-D)

Translations: 

Lembale – Leaving

Umm... I think I translated everything else (in the dialogue), please tell me if I didn't.

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****

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Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	3. Chapter 2: Wanyale Mar

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

****

There and Back Again

Chapter 2: Wanyale Mar

By Jess S

Harry, known to his Elven kin (by adoption) as Prince Elerossë Tinehtelë, sighed as he watched the dawns first rays break the horizon, awakening the mystical world of the Galadrim...

He had returned only a few short days ago, after having traveled across Middle Earth for many centuries. One would think that with so much time in this world, it would feel like home. The 'young' wizard didn't know why this was not so. He suspected that it might be because he felt he still had obligations to the world he was born into, and that he'd never had a chance to say goodbye to his friends.

That would not be so here...

While he'd been traveling his foster family had been looking for a way to send him back, safely, and they had found it. They had build a gate, which, when activated, would take him home.

"Elerossë?"

Harry turned slightly, watching as Ránëwén Galathil, Haldir's youngest niece and one of his best friends in her own right, approached. She glided gracefully up the elegant stairwell to the balcony he stood upon, her midnight black hair, inherited from her mother, who'd come to them from Imladris, shimmering in the early light. Her wide violet eyes, for which she was named, watching him with concern.

"Valina arin, Ránëwén..." {Good morning} Harry replied quietly, turning back to watch the dawn.

"Le ilteera vorite na nwalya..." {You have no reason to be worried...} Violet offered, turning to watch the rising sun as well. "Lady Galadriel, – Heri Oloorin, Heru Cereborn ar Heru Elrond atistima vorite si uura enyala. Nelda o leser." {Lady Galadriel, Lord Cereborn and Lord Elrond have researched this a great deal. They care about you.} [AN: Outside of dialogue I'm calling her 'Violet' because I don't feel like typing her Elvish name every time, and that's what it actually stands for.... and according to the dictionaries I've been using, 'Oloorin' is one of Galadriel's names...]

Harry nodded, "Im hanya..." {I know...} he replied quietly, nodding. "Imser ar anwa nosse nin." {I love and trust my kin.}

There was no sound that drew the pairs attention, only a near nonexistent telepathic wave... summoning them.

"Ta luu," {It is time,} Violet offered a minute moment later, turning to the steps, her long shimmering down flowing along with her, catching and reflecting the dawns rays in a masterful display of art. 

Harry nodded, offering a slight sigh as he turned, and smiling slightly as he offered a hand to one of his best friends, out of common courtesy and etiquette. "Uma, heri nin yello..." {Yes, the lady calls...}

~ * ~

It was a bereaved and strained quietus that filled the grove where the Lady of Lothlórien's mirror dwelt. There were a total of eleven people there in the grove itself, outside the Elves of the Galadrim were singing a beautiful, echoing melody... bidding their young prince farewell. 

Lady Galadriel and her husband, Lord Cereborn were, of course, present to bid their foster-son farewell. Lord Elrond and his three children; his twin sons: Elladan and Elrohir, and his daughter: Arwen Undomiel, were there for similar reasons, for they, like almost everyone who had met the young wizard, regarded him as family. 

Haldir was their not only in support of his niece, but also to bid his young friend goodbye, for they had become rather close during Harry's time in the Galadrim and when they'd been traveling together. The arms commander had, in fact, only traveled with Harry until they'd reached Imladris, after that he had returned to his home after that, with the reassurance that Harry now had three good traveling companions. 

One of them was his niece, Violet, who had insisted on traveling with him when they met up in Imladris, where she had been visiting her relatives on her mother's side. The other two were Elrohir and Camthalion Míriel, two twin brothers native to Imladris who Harry grew rather attached to while visiting Lord Elrond. 

All three of them were not here to bid their friend farewell, for they fully intended to leave with him. No amount of logic could dissuade them, so after quite a bit of debate, Harry had given in, and, regardless of his objections, he _was_ glad that he wouldn't be leaving everything behind. 

If you looked at them, you might have odd time reading them, for elves _were_ exceptionally skilled at concealing their emotions, for they undoubtedly had much more time and practice than anyone else could attest to, and Harry had essentially been raised by them to their standards. However, when an elf is truly sad, no amount of experience can hide it. Both Galadriel and Arwen were blinking back tears, and everyone else's eyes were bright.

It was the Lady of Light who broke the silence.

"Im ilteera yana en ta iltanwe anta nin, ana farya itha niire le, Elerossë. Varna mesta an le.

Hanya tana i mel o Quendelie ullume ve o le, ar yana le iloiale ve ilenyala... Ananata il ta oia mae govannen. Aníron 'eveditham, yondo nin." {I am afraid there is nothing that I can give, to express how much I shall miss you, Harry. Safe journey to you. Know that the love of the elves shall always be with you, and that you shall never be forgotten... And you are always welcome. I pray we meet again, my son.} She murmured this farewell speech in quiet, affectionate tones that belied the sadness in her eyes. Just as she'd bid him farewell before he had left to travel Middle Earth, she bent down slightly to place a gentle, motherly kiss on his forehead, just above the scar Lord Voldemort had cursed him with. "Namárië..." {Farewell...}

Harry was blinking back tears as he nodded gratefully to his foster mother. "Hannon le, amil nin..." he replied, his voice slightly choked, before turning to his foster father.

Lord Cereborn offered a small, slightly sad, but nonetheless warm smile. "Namar, yondo nin." He murmured, "Varna mesta..." {Safe journey...}

"Hannon le, atar nin." {Thank you, father.} Harry replied quietly, before turning to the Elves of Imladris.

"Aníron na kena le mi Imladris ata, Elerossë. Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar oia tielyanna nu vilya." {We hope to see you in Rivendell again, Harry. May the Valar always protect your path under the sky.} Lord Elrond offered a slight bow to the young prince before stepping aside slightly, to allow his daughter to move forward. She did so, immediately kneeling down to envelope Harry in a tight embrace, which he sank down to slightly to return. 

"Ilvoro umbar lyaa, Elerossë. An ilnoa nin i-Dhúath ú-orthor or le." {Never doubt yourself, Harry. For I do not think the Shadow shall ever hold sway over you.} And with that softly spoken assurance, the Lady of Imladris rose to her feet, and backed away, quickly bringing a hand up to her cheek to brush the lone tear that had escaped her efforts away. 

Touched as he was, Harry could only nod in reply before turning his attention to Elladan and Elrohir. Both simply smiled and offered silent farewells in the form of nods, which he returned, before turning to Haldir.

The Galadrim's Arms Commander, who had not only taught him how to fight, but had then also traveled by his side for several centuries as he explored this world, met his eyes before speaking. "Uume ilenyala si amar." {Do not forget this world.} He murmured, nodding to his niece to indicate that his words were for her as well.

Both nodded in reply, Harry offering a soft, "Ilvoro" {Never}, spoken so softly that the Elves wouldn't have heard it if not for their kindred's acute hearing.

There were several moments of silence before Lord Elrond murmured, "Ta luu..." {It is time...}

His mother-in-law sighed. "Illaa..." {Of course...} she murmured, turning toward her mirror, and thereby facing the archway they'd constructed behind it. She joined hands with her husband and her son-in-law and they began murmuring together, concentrating to draw the power of the Earth, of the Valar, to them. [AN: I'm not translating that here, because it's a spell. It'll be translated at the end.]

"_Tûr o în amar,_

Tûr o i Valar,

Lasto beth daer;

Panta aksa o lyaa nosse!"

As they chanted, the archway began to glow, brighter and brighter, until it framed a wall of light...

"_Kirya e!_"

The light flashed several times, before solidifying and beginning to grow in intensity...

"_Varya e!_ "

Now the portal was a wall of completely white light, although the glow around the archway was closer to silver.

"_Kalya kala foa nosse oiale!_"

As the portal released another burst of light, the Elven rulers trembled slightly, struggling to hold on to the power they'd summoned. The rings on Galadriel and Elrond's fingers almost seemed to glow...

Galadriel turned her head slightly to the foursome that was waiting to depart. "Namárië..." she murmured, nodding them onward.

Harry nodded in response, walking forward. He stopped just outside of the portal, turning back to his foster family. "Hannon le," he murmured, taking one last breath of the Galadrim's air, before stepping through the dimensional portal.

Violet and the twins followed in his wake. 

~ * ~

It wasn't a second past midnight, for Harry's watch, from its place on the table beside the tiny bed in the smallest bedroom on the second floor of number four, Privet Drive, was still beeping when a small window of light appeared in the ceiling and four people fell through. Harry fell through first, landing softly on the ground, thanks to his Elven training and years of using that training. Violet came through only half a second after him, landing right beside him. Both of them quickly rolled to the side as the twins came through together, also landing on their feet with no sound whatsoever. And then the portal was gone, leaving the room almost completely silent.

All four immediately turned to the only thing that disturbed the night's silence, their eyes settling on Harry's wristwatch just as it stopped beeping. Sharp eyes noted the smoke that was rising from the candles atop the fresh birthday cake.

Noting the writing on top of the cake, the three elves turned to their Wizarding friend.

"Elerossë?" Violet inquired softly, her voice only loud enough to reach the room's occupants.

Harry was still looking around... The owls that had delivered his 'fifteenth' birthday presents were still there, watching him. All of the letter's he'd opened and set upon his bed after reading were still there, just as he'd left them. "Illuume ta wanwie..." {No time has past...} he murmured, hardly daring to believe it. "Uuneuna!" {Not a moment!}

His companions blinked. 

Certainly, they'd been told that there was a possibility of that very same thing occurring, but none of them had expected it! It was almost too good to be true! 

And not so good, on the other side... For it made the truth all that much harder for people to believe.

'Harry Potter' was known to this world as a teenage-wizard who was entering his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But, while he was technically physically fifteen-years-old, he wasn't mentally! He'd seen too much! Experienced too much! _Done_ too much, to ever be considered a minor... He was young in Elven terms, certainly, but not in mortal/human terms! 

But, with no time having past while he'd been gone... how were they to convince his world of that?... Was it even possible? 

~ * ~

It was early the next morning, when the Dursleys were sitting down to breakfast in the dining room of number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Dursley was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck and a very large, while his wife, Petunia, was thin, and blonde, with twice the usual amount of neck. They were Harry's Uncle and Aunt. His cousin, Dudley, did resemble them, they were always happy to say, although Harry could never really figure out why. Dudley had his mother's blonde hair, and his father's physique. The only difference was Vernon Dursley only looked somewhat overweight. Dudley Dursley could easily be mistaken for a pig in a wig. Numerous diets enforced by his school nurse hadn't helped, although he had begun to lose a little weigh that year, when he started boxing.

As far as the Dursleys knew, this morning should be no different then any other, aside from the fact that it was their nephew's birthday, which they didn't really care about nor take notice of. When 'Harry' himself came down for breakfast, was the Dursley's first clue that this was not a normal morning...

Mrs. Dursley was the first to see him, she'd stopped, her glass of orange juice half-way up to her thin lips, and stared, not recognizing him. Her distraction soon drew her husband's eyes to the kitchen door as well, and, after several minutes, Dudley, noticing his parent's unusual silence, also turned to look.

"Good morning, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley." Harry murmured quietly, letting only a small amount of his acquired Elven accent leak through.

Mrs. Dursley dropped her glass while Mr. Dursley dropped his fork, and Dudley simply stared, not noticing as the large chunk of sausage on his fork fell off.

Harry, apparently not noticing, or ignoring, their shock, offered a pleasant smile as he entered the room, crossing over into the kitchen and opening a cupboard to take out two of the small glasses. He then went over to the fridge, opened it, and took out the jug of orange juice filling to the two cups, before returning the jug and closing the door. He then walked over to the dining room table and offered his aunt one of the glasses.

Wordlessly, Mrs. Dursley accepted it, still staring at her nephew.

And they certainly had a reason to stare...

The 'young' man who stood before them resembled their nephew, but only just. He didn't fit any of the words they'd use to describe his former appearance. 

He wasn't short anymore... He was a few inches taller than when they'd last seen him, which had been the day before... they thought. 

He wasn't scrawny... Somehow is face had filled out slightly, and his appearance was that of a healthy young man. His shoulders had broadened and his muscles had toned from centuries of fighting...

He moved with a grace and confidence they'd never thought to associate with the boy. 

He wasn't wearing his glasses either... Making his magnificent, emerald green eyes all the more noticeable.

And his hair... had actually calmed down. It looked a little longer, a little shinier, and a little darker... but more importantly; it _wasn't_ all over the place!

"H-H-Harry?" Mrs. Dursley broke the silence.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" Harry replied, taking another sip of his juice, while leaning back slightly against the counter.

It was then that his relatives noticed his attire. A sleek, shimmering white vest over loose, forest-green pants and a forest-green shirt with a folded collar. His boots were partially hidden by the pants, but they were obviously very shiny, and very expensive...

"How... what...?"

Harry smiled slightly at his aunt's bewilderment. "As you can see," he began. "I've gone through a few changes, as of late..."

The look on all of their faces quite clearly said, 'Yeah, no kidding!'

"And I'm afraid I'm going to need your help adjusting-"

"Help...?" Mr. Dursley choked, "_Help?!_" he demanded, rising to his feet, his face reddening. "How _dare_ you?! You do _this..._ this..."

"Magic?" Harry offered, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! That_!_" his uncle continued, looking even more infuriated. "That! In **_my_** house and you have the... the... gall to come and ask for our help! An-"

"_Ask?_" Harry blinked, "Who said I was asking?" he effectively shut his uncle up with his quiet inquiry.

Vernon Dursley didn't no why, but something about the way his nephew had made that inquiry... the way he now stood... the way he raised his right eyebrow sardonically... made him look dangerous... And it made the 'older' man suppress shudder.

"As a matter of fact," Harry continued after a moment's silence. "I'm afraid we don't have the luxury of asking."

"What-?" Dudley began, but was cut off by his mother.

"'We'?" Mrs. Dursley demanded quietly, watching him fearfully.

"Yes," Harry nodded, "_we._" He turned slightly toward the door, and called, "Mellon nin?" 

A moment later, his three companions entered the kitchen, and the room was suddenly quite a bit full. Not that the Dursleys really noticed as they stared at the trio. Considering how Harry's appearance had startled them, it was a wonder they didn't go into complete shock upon meeting the three elves.

It was all too obvious that these three were far from the Dursley's comfortable zone of 'normal'... They may not know what an elf is, but no human could be as attractive as these three, although Harry, undoubtedly from living with and amongst them for so long, did.

Their long, dark, shiny hair hid their pointed ears, but it didn't hide their delicate, aristocratic features, or their pale, almost glowing skin. It didn't hide the fact that all three of them were quite tall, or the fact beautiful was the only description that could possibly fit them. Of course, it was clear that the two males were twins, for they _were_ identical. And, even on her home world, amongst her own kind, Violet was unusually fair, with her exotic eyes and her incredibly dark hair.

"Who...?" Again, his aunt broke the silence. 

Harry had to wonder if she recovered a little more quickly than the rest of her family because she was related to, and had grown up with his mother. Shaking that idle curiosity away, he answered her mostly unasked question. "Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley, meet Eric and Christopher Aeternas, and Violet Galathil." He introduced. The four of them had decided early that it would probably be good idea if they didn't all go by their Elven names. For one thing, they would be hard for most people to pronounce. For another, there _were_ an Elven people that sounded very similar to, if not identical to the Elves of Middle Earth, in this world, but none of them had been seen, by wizards or anyone else, in over a thousand years. That information was based upon the Hogwarts Library, which thanks to Hermione's cleverness, Harry had had with him on his journey, and Galadriel's mirror and legends.

The elves nodded politely in greeting, but otherwise remained silent.

"Now..." Harry continued, "as I was saying before, I'm afraid we're going to need to make a few changes. And we'll need your help to do it."

~ * ~

It was several hours later, in the late afternoon that saw Arabella Figg leap out of a taxicab, and throw a handful of pounds at the driver, before hurrying down Grimmauld Place, London. After passing number eleven, she made a beeline for a battered door marked '_13_' that had suddenly appeared out of thin air. She hurried up steps that had yet to appear, and slammed her fist on the door several times. 

As she waited for it to be answered, the rest of the house appeared. Dirty walls and grimy windows stretched out, seeming to make up an inflating house, taking up room that wasn't their, and pushing the two houses alongside it, both of which were firmly set in the ground, aside. 

After waiting a moment, she slammed her fist on the door several times again, tapping her foot impatiently and breathing heavily, not noticing the snowy-white owl that flew into one of the houses upper windows.

"I'm coming... I'm coming!" A voice called from inside, and a moment later the door was yanked open by an obviously irritated Mrs. Weasley. "What is - 'Bella?" she gasped, her eyes widening as she stepped aside to allow the older woman the entrance she sought.

"I have to speak to Dumbledore!" Mrs. Figg explained by way of explanation, as she hurried past the redhead and down the barely lit hall to the dining room, where a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was taking place.

Mrs. Weasley quickly slammed the door and hurried after her, stopping for only a fraction of a second at the bottom of the stairs to tell her identical twin sons to get back up stairs. 

~ * ~

The Black Dining Room was currently very quiet as the members of the Order of the Phoenix awaited Mrs. Weasley's return. They were more than a little surprise when Arabella Figg came in before her.

"Ah, Arabella..." Dumbledore frowned, looking the elderly Squib over. "Is something the matter."

"Yes," Mrs. Figg replied with a nod, breathing heavily, "Yes, there is..."

"Is it Harry?" Sirius Black demanded, looking more than a little concern. His concern was clearly shared by almost everyone else in the room, as they awaited her answer apprehensively. 

When Mrs. Figg nodded, still breathing in deep gasps, exerted from the rush over, Dumbledore asked, "What happened, Arabella? Is Harry alright?"

Mrs. Figg nodded, still breathing heavily, but making an effort to speak nonetheless. "Yes, at least I think he is..."

"Then what happened?" Remus asked the question on everyone's minds.

"They moved."

Several moments' silence followed her answer, before Professor McGonagall coughed slightly. "I beg you pardon?" she asked.

"The Dursleys," Mrs. Figg clarified, "they moved!"

"What... what do you mean 'they _moved_'?" Sirius demanded.

"Exactly that!" Mrs. Figg glared, clearly becoming exasperated. "When I made my first round by their house this morning at seven o'clock there was a lot of activity inside, so I hung around for awhile, to see what was going on... Around nine a moving van pulled up, they brought everything out, loaded it up... got into their car... and left."

Everyone blinked at her for several seconds before Remus asked. "What about Harry?"

Mrs. Figg frowned, "I... I'm not sure. I never saw him this morning... which is odd," she shook her head, "usually they try to pile as much physical labor onto him as possible... but I didn't see him out at all... even their oaf of a son was working, but I never saw Harry come out." She shook her head again, "But he must have been with them, because I went inside after they left and the house was _totally_ empty..."

"You just walked in?" A young witch in Ministry robes asked.

"Yes, Tonks," Mrs. Figg rolled her eyes. "I 'just walked in'." She shrugged, "They put a for sale's sign up before they left, so there was nothing wrong with it..."

"So they just... moved?" 'Tonks' asked.

"Yes, Tonks, 'they just moved'." Mrs. Figg replied.

"Well... this is certainly a surprise," Professor McGonagall murmured. "At least, I assume it is. Did you have any hint that they might be moving?"

Figg shook her head, "None at all... well, Dursley himself always _wanted_ to move. Go into the city and buy a townhouse... But he never had enough money." She shook her head again, "I can't imagine where they suddenly got it from..."

A knock on the closed door to the hallway drew their attention. 

Mrs. Weasley sighed, rising to her feet and crossing to the door to see what her children, for it couldn't be anyone else, thought was important enough to interrupt an Order meeting after all of her warnings. She opened the door and raised an eyebrow. Ron and Hermione stood their, Fred and George right behind them, and Ginny was watching from the bottom of the stairs. "What is it?" she asked, deciding to give them a chance to explain themselves before tearing into them.

"Harry!" both fifteen-year-olds replied.

Mrs. Weasley blinked, "I beg your pardon?"

"It's Harry!" Ron repeated, waving a piece of parchment at her.

"He just wrote to us, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione explained, "we thought it might be important..."

"Oh... well..."

"Let them in, Molly."

Mrs. Weasley sighed, but obeyed the Headmaster's order nonetheless, stepping back to let the five of them in.

Once they stood in the center of the room by themselves, Mrs. Weasley having returned to her seat after shutting the door, and Mrs. Figg having taken the seat Professor McGonagall had conjured for her, Dumbledore offered a slight smile. "Now, what exactly has Harry written to you?"

"He moved!" Ron said, a little loudly, before Hermione could reply, obviously a little nervous at having a room full of adults staring at him.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, "Anything else?"

All five teenagers frowned, obviously disappointed by the fact that this news had had absolutely no affect on the Order members.

"Do you happen to know how or why Mr. Potter's relatives decided to move?" Professor McGonagall inquired.

Immediately, Hermione nodded, "Yes... He said his aunt and uncle have always wanted to move... And his Uncle won the lottery last week so they decided to use the money for that."

The Order members absorbed this thoughtfully.

"Does that makes sense, Arabella?" Dumbledore inquired, noticing her frown.

Figg shook her head, still frowning. "Not really... Yes, I know the Dursleys have always wanted to move... but they also absolutely abhor gambling. I've heard Mr. Dursley say on a number of occasions that he'd be strung up before he'd buy a ticket..."

"Hmm..." Dumbledore shook his head, returning his attention to the five Hogwarts students before him. "Do you happen to know where they've moved to?"

Hermione nodded again. "Yes, Harry said they were moving into a townhouse, in London..." she frowned, "He said it was close to the Leaky Cauldron...he could see it from the back gate..." she added helpfully.

After a moment's silence, Ginny piped up, "Can we go visit him? Please...?"

Mrs. Weasley frowned, and was about to reply when Dumbledore shook his head, meeting her eyes.

"Yes," the Headmaster agreed, "I think that may be a very good idea..." He nodded to the children, "Why don't you five go get ready and wait by the door?"

Nodding excitedly, and smiling brightly, the five of them ran from the room.

"Albus...?" Mrs. Weasley asked, frowning.

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm sorry, Molly. But you must admit, they have been stuck inside here for quite awhile... The trip will probably be good for them. And Voldemort hasn't done anything yet, we really don't want to go into hiding as if we were truly at war, before we have to..."

The others nodded in agreement.

~ * ~

It seemed that, for once in their lifetime, the Dursleys were glad to be related to Harry Potter. Or, actually, glad wasn't the word... overjoyed was more like it...

They'd only followed Harry's instructions to begin with because they didn't want to anger him... they didn't know why but it really didn't seem like a good idea, whether he was allowed to cast spells or not... But once they'd seen the house that the twins had chosen, they were all too happy to move right in. 

Originally, it had been two townhouses side by side. However, the Leaky Cauldron was only two blocks away from the gate to the garden in the back, so Violet had just gone into the Alley (with Harry under his invisibility cloak) and they'd quickly managed to find a small Wizarding company to suit their purposes. Vivian had gone as 'Miss Jane' (she'd never really given her last name) and talked the wizards there into helping her out for an incredibly low price. 

Harry was sure they three twenty-something wizards would be wondering a few days in the future is she'd been a Veela. But he didn't have to worry about it, because thanks to the simple Elven potion Violet had slipped into their drinks, they wouldn't be able to find the house they'd spent four hours remodeling no matter how hard they tried!

All they'd really intended to have them to was merge the two houses (and the gardens), but in the end they'd completely remodeled, repainted and heavily charmed the place. Now, the house was considerably large (as it was located in downtown London), with spacious rooms and sweeping staircases.

They'd made a deal with the Dursley's that basically cut the house in half. It wasn't hard, because 'Jane' had made sure that their were only two hallways that led from one side of the house to the other; one downstairs, and one upstairs. And they were very easy to shut off. 

The Dursleys had the front of the house, with a large kitchen, dining room and parlor downstairs, and four large bedrooms, three of which had their own bathrooms, upstairs. 

The back of the house was similarly designed, but it was a bit larger. There was a kitchen, dining room and parlor for them too, but they also had a living room. Upstairs they had five bedrooms, each of which had a bathroom. And the only entrance to the basement and he attic was in the back. The Dursleys didn't really mind that, the house was huge, and they had several large closets on their side of the house, so storage space wasn't really an issue.

The house actually had four fireplaces. One in the front parlor, one in the back parlor, one in the back living room and one in the basement. The one in the basement was very large and, really designed specifically for Flooing. 

After seeing the house, the Dursley's didn't really want the majority of their old furniture, so they'd told the moving van (people) to put most of it up for auction. They could use that money, and the money they got from selling their house, to buy all new furniture.

Now, the Dursleys were glad to be related to Harry, mainly because he was the one who'd bought the house. Violet and the twins had quickly managed to sell all of the gold they'd brought with them from Middle Earth (which was _considerable_), and they'd then put all of the money into a Muggle bank account. From their Harry paid for the house (all of it; they didn't even need a mortgage), and they'd had a high-class interior decorator furbish the house.

Now, after a hard days work, the Dursleys were somewhere getting ready to go out to dinner, to celebrate, while Harry, 'Violet, Eric and Christopher', were finishing working on the garden in the back, while watching the sun set.

As it was almost done, 'Eric and Christopher' [AN: I'm going to be calling them that most of the time; just like with Harry and Violet. I'll only use their Elvish names in dialog... probably just Elvish dialog, but you never know...] had agreed to go out and find something for dinner. Harry had offered to do it himself, saying he didn't really expect him to adjust to his world in just a day, how could he? He was having a hard time adjusting himself! But they just said they'd enjoy the adventure, and left it at that.

So now Harry and Violet were bringing the garden up to Elven standards on their own.

~ * ~

They undoubtedly made a strange group, four flaming haired children and their parents, one bushy haired girl, a semi-known werewolf, a large black dog, which bore an eerie resemblance to a Grim, a cat and greasy-haired man, all (the ones in human form) in Muggle attire, stumbling out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. The bald bartender certainly seemed more than a little confuse as he looked at each member of the group. Unsure of whom to call to, he simply called in their direction, "Care for a drink?"

Suddenly, where the tabby had been moments before Professor McGonagall stood, "No thank you, Tom."

After a moment, the bartender nodded, and turned his attention back to his patrons.

Quietly, the group followed the Transfiguration Professor out of the pub and onto the street. After leading them into the Muggle bookshop beside it, McGonagall turned back to them. "You said he could see the Leaky Cauldron from the back gate, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, "That's what he said in the letter..."

"Very well," McGonagall nodded, and then raised an eyebrow when everyone looked at her. "Well? Start looking!"

"Umm... Professor? Why did we come in here?" Ginny asked, glancing around the Muggle Bookshop.

McGonagall sighed, "Because, Miss Weasley, it isn't wise to talk openly on the street, and this store happens to have rather large windows, and is right beside the pub."

"So we should be able to see his house from here!" Hermione rationalized, smiling brightly.

"Quite right, Miss Granger."

Everyone looked around, frowning slightly as they concentrated. After a moment, Professor Snape turned to his colleague, "It might be easier," he began, "if we simply walked down the street and looked around."

"But then we won't even have the clue about the Cauldron!" Ron objected.

Snape rolled his eyes, "On the contrary, Mr. Weasley. I believe the statement was 'he could see the tavern from the back gate'. Therefore, we could simply walk to all of the gates and narrow it down to the ones we can see the Leaky Cauldron from, and the ones we can't."

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. 

A little under an hour later they'd eliminated every house within a block of the tavern, as well as every house to the right. It had been easy enough, only a few of the back gates had the Leaky Cauldron in their line of sight. As it was what most people considered time for supper, they just had to look in through the dining room window, which was rather easy for Professor McGonagall when she was transformed, and see who was their. They'd yet to see Harry or the Dursleys. 

"Oooh.... This ones _nice!_" Ginny murmured as they came to rather large house two blocks away from the tavern and stopped at the back gate. Turning back toward the Leaky Cauldron, they could see that it was definitely in sight.

"This _has_ to be it!" Hermione murmured.

"And why exactly is that, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, eyeing what was undoubtedly one of the most magnificent houses he'd ever seen.

"Because, sir," Hermione replied, nodding back toward the tavern. "We can just barely see the tavern from here, and the next two houses don't have back gates!"

A glance down the street confirmed this statement, so the adults sighed.

"So why don't we just go in and see Harry?" Ron asked. "That's why we came, anyway..."

~ * ~

Violet smiled, humming one of her favorite childhood melody's softly as she added the finishing touch to the fountain she'd spent the last hour working on. Taking a step back, she eyed it critically before nodding and turning to head to the other side of the garden and help Harry finish his last project. She froze in mid-step, her Elven hearing picking up voices nearby.

The city had been rather disconcerting when they'd just arrived. There was so much noise! But after a little while, and with the help of all the sound-barrier-charms Thomas, Bill and Dwaine had put up around the house and the yard, she, Harry and the twins had adjusted.

But, for her to be hearing voices even with the charms in place, they had to be very close...

With a frown, the Elven lady walked quickly down the pathway, moving around the bends with the grace and ease akin to her people. When she neared the back gate, she could see a considerably large group on the other side.

"Mellon o lyaa?" {Friends of yours?} she asked softly, not needing to turn to know that Harry was by her side.

Harry simply nodded, knowing that she already knew the answer. 

"Man unem?" {What should we do?} the Elf asked.

"Wanya ambar," {Go inside,} Harry instructed. "Panta iorteluume, ar nyarya 'nosse' nin tanya menvoite mellon o apsa..." {Open the hallway, and tell my aunt and uncle that we're have company over for supper...}

End of Chapter 2.

Translations:

Wanyale – Going

Mar – 'Home'

Tûr o în amar, - Powers of our world,

Tûr o i Valar, - Powers of the Valar,

Lasto beth daer; - Listen to the great word;

Panta aksa o lyaa nosse! - Open the path for your children!

Kirya e! - Guide them!

Varya e! - Protect them!

Kalya kala foa nosse oiale! - May your light shine upon them always!

Mellon nin - My friends

AN: Well... that's it for now! Sorry it took so long to update! I was a little preoccupied! I'll talk more about Harry's time on ME later... in flashbacks and whatnot... Thanks for reading! AND PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Response to Reviews;

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Star Mage - Umm... Does that answer your question?

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Kjari - LOL, I'm glad you liked it. How was this one? I think it answered most of your questions on it's own. Gracias! ^_^

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Kathleen - Thank you. LOL, he should be leaving on his quest a little while after Harry left.

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As de Corazones - Thank you, I'm glad you like it. ^_^

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Fear Mage - Thank you. LOL, yes... there's more than one villain, actually... but you'll see that later on.... ^_^

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Headncloud - Thank you ^_^

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Headmaster Cromwell - Thank you. I'll try and visit your site soon. ^_^

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The Wold of Were - Thank you

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The Elfin Child - Thank you. LOL... I'm pretty sure this chapter answered that. I hope you liked it! I'm sorry about the wait...

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Jul - Thanks

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Ridderr of Mastermind - ...Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Sorry about the wait.

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Klanek2004 - ^_^ Thank you. I'm sorry about the wait.

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Saku-chan - Thank you 

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Istalksiriusonweekends - Thank you... LOL, this chapter answered that, yes? 

Hmm... Should I answer that one?... Well, I guess there's no harm in it; No, Harry is _not_ an immortal. He was an 'immortal' on Middle Earth because he didn't really belong there, so he couldn't age there. The trip didn't bless him with immortality, just skill and confidence, etc.... I will say that that will be an issue later on....

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^ (Great name, btw)

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Lady Cinnibar - LOL. Sorry for the wait.

Hmm... Yes, that does make sense. At least, I always think it does when I review a good/great story! ^_^ Sadly, it doesn't always work that way... I will say that all the reviews helped me overcome a small case of writer's block!

I hope you liked this chapter! 

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Guardian angel of wolves - LOL, I'm glad you like it.

I read you story, "How the -Who-Lived Disappeared", nice job... but I still think you should continue it! :P

Thanks for reading! ^_^

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Maggie - LOL... I'm glad you like the story so much... um, you weren't _really_ dying, right? You're still there... right? I don't want to loose one of my readers... especially one who was considerate enough to review! 

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Sunrunner of Summer - LOL... Thank you. I'm glad you like them. 

And thanks for the complement... ^_^

Consanguina should be ready soon... but I hope this was good for now.

THANKS FOR READING!!!

AND: **_REVIEW!!!_**

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	4. Chapter 3: Hon Antuulien

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

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There and Back Again

Chapter 3: Hon Antuulien

By Jess S

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "We can't just _walk in!_ Do you have any idea how _rude_ that would be? I mean... even if this _is_ Harry's new house, what if he's not home?"

The redhead blinked, looking surprised, and took a moment to reply. "Uhh... I never really thought of that..." he muttered, his turning reddening. This statement made several members of the group, Hermione and all of Ron's present siblings included, rolled their eyes. 

"Ah, there you all are!" 

They all turned toward the familiar, cheerful voice, in surprise.

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall blinked, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," the Headmaster shrugged, "I thought I might like to have a word with young Mr. Potter as well... and check to ensure the wards have resituated themselves correctly." He looked up at the wall behind them, taking in the garden and the majestic house beyond it. "Have you found his family's new place of residence, then?"

"We believe," Professor Snape replied, his tone neutral, "that this is the only place that could fit the clues we were offered. All other possibilities have been ruled out, by process of elimination..."

"So this is the only one left?" the older wizard nodded, his eyes twinkling at the Potions Master's quick nod. "Very well, then, we'd best go around front and knock, shan't we?"

As the group members turned to do so, they were halted by a sudden gasp from Ginny Weasley. "H-Harry?!" she squeaked, her eyes wide as she stared through the gate behind them, causing the others to spin around, and be no less astonished than she (and the Dursleys earlier that morning).

The young man coming towards them was certainly Harry Potter, the scar and the peculiar eyes confirmed of that. However, those two characteristics were almost certainly the only thing about him that _hadn't_ changed since the last time they'd seen him. 

He was a few inches taller, and his hair, which flowed softly in a gently silky fall of midnight black strands, was about certainly an inch longer. The raven mass emphasized the startling paleness of his skin. That skin didn't really appear _unnatural_, per say, just _unusual_... it had a sort of ethereal glow to it... It wrapped around features that were no longer the least bit rounded by baby fat, but were instead as refined and flawless as any of the aristocrat's of old. 

His eyes were even more noticeable, their strikingly divine and alluring shade all the more obvious because he wasn't wearing his glasses. Therefore, they could also see the barely present laugh lines up around his eyes, which matched the complacent smile present on the lips that framed a flawless smile. 

The clothing he wore was a bit of a shock as well, for it was much more formal... no, not more formal... for it was not the clothing that made him regal, but he who made it seem so. 

Pale khakis outlined well-muscled legs, draping down around his ankles and hiding the top of his finely polished, dragon hide boots. 

The shirt he wore above it wasn't like any they'd ever seen before, but it seemed to fit him. Made of a shimmering material, dyed a deep, forest green, it outlined his broadened shoulders and lean frame while still making his eyes seem even more pronounced. 

"H-Harry?" Hermione gasped after several moments of staring, unintentionally mimicking Ginny's earlier exclamation. "I-is that _you?_"

"...Yes, Hermione, it's me," Harry replied, his smile still in place, even as he glanced down and seemed to examine himself nervously, bringing a strong hand up to unconsciously brush his bangs away from his eyes (and giving them a clear view of his scar), before letting it fall back. "What?" he asked, "I haven't change _that_ much, have I?"

Hermione, with many of the others mimicking her, raised an eyebrow, shaking her head, "Umm... well, actually... You have, Harry. Really... you have..."

After a moment's pause, Harry shook his head, reaching forward to swing the gate open and allow them open. "Would you like to come in?" he asked politely.

"Thank you," Several of them murmured before moving forward, and through the gate.

Harry closed the gate behind them, before turning around to face them again. "Would you like to join us for supper?" As he received several nods in reply, Harry himself nodded, and began leading them slowly down the path to the house. 

~ * ~

Ránëwén watched the approaching party from the upper window in silence. They hadn't been expecting to have to meet with the friends of Harry's youth, but it obviously could not be avoided. She couldn't help but wonder what Harry would choose to tell them. 

She and the twins would listen, certainly, from the upper landing above the dining room. For they couldn't be seen _living_ in Harry's new home for awhile yet. After all, even if Harry's book was right, and no member of the Wizarding _had_ scene a true elf in several centuries... they weren't _stupid_. Even the _Dursleys_ had known that the three weren't human!

So she couldn't be there to help him, no matter how much it pained her.

The Elven noble shook her head, sighing softly as the party below her reached the porch steps and soon disappeared inside. "Mart valina, melda nin..." {Good luck...} she murmured softly.

~ * ~

All of the newcomers couldn't help but stare around themselves in awe, as they made their way to the house. The path they walked upon was made of fine, white marble slabs and surrounded by a garden that few could possibly ever compare to. It broke off into different paths several times, but Harry never turned down those, and only continued walking down the straight one, which took them across two bridges on the way. 

The house they soon arrived at was no less impressive up close then it was from afar. Two stories of gleaming white woodwork reached up to spectacular dark-gray gables and turrets. A long balcony stretched across the second floor, backed by elegant glass doors. Everything about it was crisp and aspiring, positively glowing with the sheer grace it had been constructed with.

"Quite a lovely house, Mr. Potter," the Head of Gryffindor House commented softly, a benign smile gracing her usually firm lips.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied smoothly. "I'm afraid that that doesn't apply to the whole of the house, as we haven't quite finished unpacking yet, and some of the rooms are therefore disaster zones."

"Understandable," McGonagall chuckled.

Just as they reached the steps, Aunt Petunia appeared at the back door, looking more than a little nervous as she opened it and invited the party in. The teachers' gracious thanks - well, Snape wasn't really 'gracious', and he didn't quite 'thank' her... he just offered a cold nod and remained stonily silent - didn't seem to sooth her anxiety. 

~ * ~

As she began to turn from the window, to go listen in on the proceedings downstairs, Violet's acute Elven gaze caught sight of the twins just as they appeared in the distance. "_Zigur!_" she swore, quickly spinning around in the other direction to head for the balcony. 

Upon reaching said balcony, she looked around frantically for something - _anything_ - to gain their attention. After several precious seconds of searching, her eyes landed on the seat cushions on the bench that lined the balcony's edge. Almost as soon as she'd spotted them, she'd snatched two of the white cushions off the bench and hurled them toward the approaching twins. Perhaps it was a result of her Elven heritage, or a miracle resulted from her sheer desperation, but whatever the cause, both projectiles hit dead on. 

~ * ~

"What is it?"

Lucius Malfoy, skilled as he'd become in the suppression of emotions, was only just able to forestall a wince at the Dark Lord icy tone. "We thought you might like to be informed, my lord, that the prisoners are dead."

"Potter's birthday present?" Voldemort replied, as he raised a silver goblet of red wine to drink. 

"Yes, my lord," the Death Eater replied. "It would seem they're bodies didn't react well to last nights activities... and were more damaged then we thought."

"Hmm," Lord Voldemort nodded, "understandable... still, they were fun, weren't they, Lucius?"

"Yes, my lord. Very much so."

"It's a pity they didn't last for another round, the Dark Lord continued, "Ah well, we'll need a new batch then." He noted, clearly not considering the half a dozen Muggle children he had tortured for the Boy-Who-Lived's birthday anything worth considering. 

"Of course, my lord."

"Keep it quiet, but do be quick." The Dark Lord ordered, "We can not move just yet, we'll wait for the Ministry to turn more of the world against the Muggle-lover and his followers before we strike, but we'll need something to do before then."

"Of course, my lord."

"You may go," Lord Voldemort nodded, taking another sip of his wine. "I expect the new batch to be ready by moon rise."

"Yes, my lord." The regal Death Eater bowed deeply before quickly exiting the room, leaving the Dark Lord to his thoughts.

~ * ~

"Er noa nin, mauremen voitre nei wenya yaave!" {I still think we should have bought the fresh fruit!} The blonde elf muttered softly, but loudly enough that he was sure his twin would hear it.

"Sina," {This,} the other blonde immediately objected, "ta itar ar varna tulka! Kena le itehta vornat tyavya ve ta! Enyaare ta maure tehta notvalina! _Putta nurle!_" {was the better, and safer buy! You saw the sign! Everything tastes like it! Therefore it _must_ taste reasonably good! So stop complaining!}

The first blonde sighed, shaking his head. "Laa...man lindoorea o esse ta 'chicken'?" {Nonetheless... what sort of a name is 'chicken'?}

"Mae-" {Well-} 

Both had been so caught up in their debate that neither had seen the peculiar objects flying towards their heads, and were quite shocked by the sudden attack. So much so that it resulted in them both flat on their backs on the pathway.

"Man ta tanya?!" {What was _that?!_}

"Yatir sinte nin, Elrohir?" {How should I know?} The other, Christopher (Camthalion), replied as he pushed himself up. As he did so, he happened to glance at the balcony, instinctively searching for the origin of the attack, and finding. "Man ta Ránëwén illumele?" {What is Violet doing?} he blinked watching the Elven maiden continue to motion frantically to them and shake her head repeatedly.

His twin followed his gaze up to the balcony as well, and his eyebrows soon raised to follow them. "Ninvoitre anwa iluntya..." {I honestly have no idea...}

Evidently deciding they weren't going to follow her silent instructions anytime soon, Violet finally called out to them, keeping her volume quiet, so that without their Elven hearing they would not have stood a chance of hearing her command. "Tulya amsinome, _sii!_" {Get up here, _now!_}

Both twins blinked.

"Ilya teera... wanyalemen illune yana wandana..." {All right... we were going to do that anyway...} one began.

"Dan yana ta ilya teera..." {But that's all right...} the other finished with a shrug.

"Lau!" Violet hissed down at them, when they turn to go in through the door. Of course, it would only sound worthy of the description 'hiss' to those accustom to the beauty of the Elven language and the melodious accent the people themselves bore. "Iltanya wande, le ilhanda hos!" {Not that way, you fools!}

The twins looked up at her, glanced at each other, and then looked up again.

"Mae ta intyamen wanya mi san?" {Well how are we supposed to get in then?} one asked.

"Ta le mae, Ránëwén?" {Are you well?} the other inquired.

"Mae nin! Maara alda!" {I'm fine! Use the tree!} Violet replied, waving to the tall tree that was very close to the balcony, more then enough to be a form of travel for an elf.

The brothers looked at her, and then shrugged. 

"Ilya teera... wanne amba!" {All right... coming up!} 

"Tangado..." {Wait...} when his twin looked at him, he shrugged. "Man oi 'chicken'?" {What about the chicken?}

~ * ~

The parlor that Harry and his aunt led them to was no less magnificent then the rest of the house. The fine hardwood floors they crossed were expertly waxed and the furniture was no less refined. The room was quite large, enough so for even this party. With three large, overstuffed, white leather couches and matching recliners around the large, glass-topped coffee table gave the room a welcoming appearance that was rather difficult to accomplish. 

"Please," Mrs. Dursley gestured to the seats, "have a seat. Supper should be ready shortly, will you be joining us?"

"We'd like to," Professor Dumbledore replied, "if it isn't any trouble."

"Oh no," Mrs. Dursley shook her head, glancing at her nephew before offering a rather tight smile, "no trouble at all." She replied, before hurrying from the room.

"Well," Snape broke the silence a few moments after her departure. "Your aunt certainly doesn't seem to despise you as much as your friends say she does, Mr. Potter."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Actually, I think she's still trying to get used to me. My growth spurt was rather sudden, you see, and came as quite a shock to them."

"'Sudden'?" McGonagall asked, "How so? Did you just shoot up half a foot overnight?"

At this, Harry was truly glad for his foster-kin's customs. It was all he could do to keep from wincing at what came so close to the technical truth. However, living amongst the Elves for hundreds of years, as a royal no less, and his interaction with many other Races afterward, had taught him well. "Basically," the prince shrugged. "So," he offered a smile, "what brings you here?"

The silence that followed didn't surprise him, far from it: it was why he'd asked the question!

"Why did you move?" his House Head asked after a moment's consideration.

Harry blinked, quite intentionally, before replying. "Because we wanted to. My uncle's always wanted to live in town, so when he got the chance, we moved."

"Why didn't you tell any of us?" Ron demanded, the infamous Weasley temper rearing its red head.

"I _did_," Harry replied, frowning at him. "You got the letter's I sent you this morning, didn't you? I can't see how you could've found this place otherwise, but..."

"We got them," Hermione interrupted, shaking her head. "But couldn't you have told us a little sooner?"

Once again, centuries of Elven customs and upbringing made it all too easy for the 'Boy-Who-Lived' to keep his expression quite complacent. "Believe me," he replied evenly, "it was rather sudden..." After a moment, he offered a bright smile. "Oh, I wanted to thank all of you for my presents," he said, smiling at everyone he'd received a present from (Hermione, Remus, Snuffles, and the Weasleys), "they were great!"

All of them smiled in reply, while Snuffles barked in response.

"You could change back, if you want, Sirius," Harry offered, "The Dursleys won't say anything."

After a moment's consideration, the large black dog nodded, and then a man with long black hair stood in its place. With a smile, Sirius took a seat on the end the couch he'd been sitting next to, while Remus moved to offer his space. "So how've you been since the end of school, Harry?"

~ * ~

"_Yana_ ta lumna quente..." {_That's_ a loaded question...} Eric murmured quietly from his place beside his brother and Violet. They nodded in agreement.

The three of them were standing on the balcony that overlooked the entrance hall, a short distance from the stairs that swept down to the first floor. While they had to struggle a bit to do so, their Elven hearing allowed them to hear the conversation that was being held in the parlor. 

For all their long years, Elves truly were as curious as any human child. This had always amused Harry to no end, and they had no doubt that he knew they were up here now, listening. After all, what else were they to do?

"J-Violet, Eric, Christopher?"

The three quickly looked down to meet Petunia Dursleys inquiring gaze.

"What is it?" Violet asked quietly.

"Would you like me to bring something up to you?" Harry's aunt inquired nervously, her voice no less soft.

"Please," Violet nodded. Just as Mrs. Dursley turned away, she called down to her, "Mrs. Dursley?"

"Yes?" the blonde replied quietly, her eyes wide.

"You may call me Jane, if you like." Violet offered with a gentle smile, knowing that Harry's aunt was fond of that name. For indeed, the woman had actually said so when she'd suggested it that morning. Saying that it was the name she would've given to her own daughter, had she ever been able to have one.

The woman smiled warmly, "Then you must call me Aunt Petunia," she insisted, nodding to all three of them, "all of you. You're all close enough to Harry."

"Hannon le," the Elves replied quietly, knowing it was one of the few Elven phrases the Muggle woman understood, as Harry had already told her what it meant.

~ * ~

"Oh, I've been alright..." Harry replied after a moment's pause. Before anyone could ask anything else, he turned his attention to his two best friends. "And what about you? You hardly tell me anything in your letters, but surely you must have done _something_ interesting this summer...?"

"Uhh - ahh... umm, w-well..." Ron stuttered, clearly not liking this turn of conversation.

"No, we really haven't," Hermione shook her head, drawing her dark-haired-best friend's attention away from the redhead. "I did read a good book on Wizarding-Muggle relations a few days ago... Oh!" she smiled slightly, "have you started reading the book yet?"

"Yes," Harry nodded.

Ron blinked and stared at him, "You _have?_"

Hermione shot a glare at the redhead, before smiling at Harry, "That's wonderful! What'd you think so far?"

"It's very... educational," Harry shrugged, "and some parts are really interesting."

"How far are you?"

"Oh... a ways," Harry smiled, "It's very interesting, thank you, Hermione."

Hermione blushed slightly, "Oh... well, I thought it might be helpful."

Harry nodded, "I'm sure it will be." Before they could ask anymore questions, the 'Boy-Who-Lived noticed his aunt standing in the doorway. "Yes, Aunt Petunia? What is it?"

"I'm sorry for interrupting..." she replied quickly, glancing around, "But supper is ready, if you'd like..."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore nodded, rising to his feet.

Harry shook his head, smiling as he followed the Headmaster's example. "Shall we?"

~ * ~

**__**

Back on Middle Earth - Lothlórien, 2933 of the Third Age...

"Ilindyo?" {Grandmother?} Arwen Undómiel inquired softly, as she once again made her way down into the clearing where her mother's mother watched her mirror.

"Mae anduune, indyo nin," {Good evening, my grandchild,} the Lady of the Galadrim replied quietly. "Ta telwa, uya hirseere?" {It is late, can you not find any rest?}

"Laa enyaare le," {No more than you,} the Lady of Rivendell replied just as quietly, directing her eyes to the mirror of legends. "Iluya kena le hon?"" {Can you see him?}

"Elerossë?"

"Uma."

"Laa," Lady Galadriel shook her fair head sadly, "Ilkena nin yondoor nin, ilkena nin naan." {I can not see the son of my heart, or any of the others.}

Arwen blinked back tears, "Man hanya ilyanat martle ana tîn... anwa, Ilindyo?" {We would know if anything had happened to them... wouldn't we, Grandmother?}

The Queen of the Elves closed her eyes tightly, turning away from her mirror and stepping down onto the lower ground. "Uya noa nin." {I do not know.} She replied, turning to her granddaughter she opened her arms.

It took the Elven princess far less then a moment to step into her embrace...

Now, there are some that believe that time simply doesn't pass at the same pace for humans as it does for Elves. Now, that really isn't true. Certainly, Elves may see things from a different perspective, but that doesn't mean time passes differently for them. The simple fact of the matter is that Elves are immortal, and they therefore have plenty of time to spare. Therefore, it was of little consequence for two of the Elven kingdom's fairest maidens to remain in that embrace all night long, seeking solace in their joint misery. 

~ * ~

"Well," Dumbledore smiled as they all sat themselves in the parlor once again. "I must say that that was an extraordinary meal, Mrs. Dursleys. Thank you."

"Oh, it was nothing," the blonde replied, blushing slightly as she set the tray for evening tea down on the coffee table. "Please, help yourselves." She offered nodding to the tray.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia," Harry smiled, "would you care to join us?" he asked, nodding to both his aunt, his uncle and cousin.

"No, thank you," the Muggle woman shook her head, "I'm afraid I'm a bit tired from the move today. So I myself would like to get some rest."

Her husband and son nodded quickly in agreement.

"All right," the 'young' wizard nodded, smiling once again, "Sleep well."

"Thank you," his aunt nodded, "You should get some sleep too, Harry," she told him as she made to follow her husband and her son out the door, stopping at the threshold.

"I will," the 'teenager' nodded. After the woman had departed, he turned his attention back to his guests, picking up the teapot carefully, "Tea anyone?" he offered.

"Please," McGonagall nodded while taking a teacup and setting it down on the table before her. 

The others followed her example. Once everyone had their tea the way they liked it, they once again returned their attention to their reason for being here.

"So," Snape began the informal interrogation, for that's what it really was, once again. "Are we to understand you moved simply because your uncle won enough money to do so?"

"Basically," Harry nodded. "The Dursleys have always wanted to live in the city, so it really isn't surprising."

"No," Dumbledore nodded, "I suppose not." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And why didn't you contact us, Harry? This may have put you in danger if the wards were broken."

Harry frowned, "But you said that the wards are basically placed on me, that as long as I live in the home of a blood relative, those wards are in place." He shook his head, "And the Dursleys' decided to move, so this is now they're home... Why wouldn't the wards follow us?"

The teachers blinked in surprise. 

"So you did actually consider that?" Professor McGonagall inquired, obviously surprised.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I would have contacted you," he told them, "but I figured all of you had enough on your mind as it was, and didn't want to be a bother."

Those words were ones the wizard had chosen quite carefully, knowing that they fit his former personality just as well as his current one, and that they would surprise his guests, while making them berate themselves for being surprised. For, indeed, judging by their expressions, that was just what they did.

After several moments' Professor Dumbledore finally nodded, "It wouldn't have been a bother, Harry. But it was kind of you to consider it." The sharp look he directed towards the Hogwarts Potions Master halted the younger man from saying anything about that. "Is your family planning on staying here?"

Harry nodded, "As far as I know, yes."

"Very well," the Headmaster nodded once again, apparently now choosing to accept everything at face value.

However, Harry knew he wasn't really out of the brush yet. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was slightly shadowed by lingering doubt, just as the press on McGonagall's lips was a little too tight, Mrs. Weasley's brow was slightly creased, as was Hermione's and Ron was watching him a little too closely. The others appeared convinced, aside from Snape, of course, as the Head of Slytherin was forever aiming to see him expelled. But the wizard knew that he'd have to tread carefully for awhile yet...

"Your aunt is right, Harry," Mrs. Weasley broke the silence. "It's been a long day, so we'd best be taking our leave."

The other adults nodded in agreement, rising to their feet. 

"Could we meet in Diagon Alley for supplies soon, Mum?" Ron asked as they made their way out of the parlor. 

The older witch took her time in deciding, but she eventually nodded. "I suppose so," she replied as she followed her husband through the back door onto the back porch. "Perhaps on the weekend after this coming one." She offered, "Would that be all right for you, Harry, dear?"

Harry nodded, "Of course, it's a bit easier for me to get there now."

"All right, then," Mrs. Weasley smiled, giving her son's best friend a quick hug before making her way down the steps to join the rest of the departing party. 

As the others turned the leave, Ron and Hermione hung back, and McGonagall turned back to smile at them. "Oh, I'd like to congratulate all of you," she told them, as she made her way back to them.

"For what?" Ron blinked, accepting the letter that she placed his hand, which was identical to the ones she gave to Hermione and Harry.

"For making Prefectoral status," the Gryffindor House Head replied, smiling.

All three of them blinked.

"What?" Ron asked, clearly shocked.

"You three," McGonagall nodded to them, clearly amused, "are the new Gryffindor Prefects."

"All three of us?" Hermione gasped, staring at the letter she held, in shock.

"Yes," the Professor nodded, "You've proven yourselves to be a very good team, and I thought it would be a shame to separate you in this. All of you had high enough marks, and I'm sure you'll perform the job wonderfully." She replied, once again offering a true smile.

"But..." Hermione shook her head, "How can all three of us be Prefects? There's only supposed to be two!"

"And how do I qualify as a Prefect?" Ron asked numbly, clearly still in shock.

"There are times where more then two students qualify," McGonagall replied readily, "And your grade-point-average _is_ above average, Mr. Weasley. Plus," she smiled, "Both you and Mr. Potter have received special awards for school service already, which must always be considered."

"Oh," all three members of the Gryffindor trio replied numbly.

After a moment, Harry shook his head and offered a small smile with a nod, "Thank you, Professor."

His friends quickly followed his lead, each offering a quick "thank you".

McGonagall nodded, still smiling as she turned to depart. "You'd best make your good-bye's brief, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, you don't want to keep everyone wait on the street."

Both nodded, before turning to Harry, tucking their letters away in their jackets when they saw he'd already done so. The Boy-Who-Lived's raised eyebrow reminded them of why they'd stayed behind.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" Hermione inquired softly. "Your scar hasn't been bothering you?"

"Not really..." Harry shook his head. "Voldemort was a little active last night, but other then that he's been pretty quiet."

Both nodded comprehensively. 

"Yeah," Ron replied, "that's what Fred and George said the Order's been saying." Seeing his friend's look, he explained. "We're not allowed into Order meetings, but the twins have made some gadgets that they can use to eavesdrop."

"Oh..." Harry nodded, "I probably shouldn't say that's good," he smiled, shaking his head, "So I won't... But how've you two been?"

"Alright," Hermione replied. "Victor's been awful busy lately, so I haven't heard anything from him in a few weeks."

"Are you staying at the Borrow?" Harry asked her, knowing that she was staying with the Weasleys, but seriously doubting that it was at the Burrow.

Both of his friends looked at each other before Ron chose reply quietly.

"No... we moved into the Order's headquarters... Mum thinks we'll be safer there."

"Oh..." Harry nodded again, "that makes sense." He sighed, and glanced down the path, "You two should probably be going."

Both his friends also sighed.

"Yeah," Ron replied, "You're right... see you in two weeks." He said, before quickly turning and making his way down the steps.

Hermione quickly hugged her raven-haired friend, "Good night, Harry."

"'Night," the 'boy' replied, nodding to her as she hurried after their red haired friend, "mellon nin..." he finished quietly, before making his way inside, and opening one of the windows to listen to their departure from the back parlor. 

~ * ~

**__**

Back on Middle Earth - Rivendell, (still) **2933 of the Third Age...**

It was an unusually cool autumn night that saw a small party of Men ride across the river that guarded Imladris, on their way to the House of Elrond. Upon arriving at their destination, they were met by the Elven Lord himself, and parted to allow the one they guarded to move forward to him. 

She was quite fair by human standards, this lady in her late twenties. A small child, no older than two, lay asleep in her arms. 

"Welcome, milady," Lord Elrond greeted the girl warmly, though their was a noticeable degree of sadness in his eyes as he looked upon the you, grieving widow.

For she was Gilraen, wife of the late King Arathorn II, and the Queen of Gondor. In her arms lay Arathorn and Isildur's only heir, her child: Aragorn. 

"Good evening, Lord Elrond," the woman returned the greeting in a gentle, pleasant voice. "I... I apologize for the late hour, but-"

"No apology is necessary, milady," Elrond waved it off. "You are, of course, welcome here. As is your son."

"Oh, thank you, milord," the young queen curtsied deeply, "thank you."

"It is not uncommon for Isildur's heirs to come here," Elrond continued quietly, "many have in fact been raised here, with many of his heirlooms... if that is your wish?"

"Please, milord," Gilraen nodded, "Gondor no longer knows true order. The Lords are fighting amongst themselves and will not listen to reason as Orcs pillage many of our border-towns." She shook her head, her eyes growing sadder. "I'm afraid that this may be the end of Gondor's days of glory."

"Perhaps not," the Half-Elven shook his head. He nodded to the Queen's guards as they made their way for the stables, the younger ones falling the seniors, who'd been here before. "Come," he then nodded to the queen, "Let us go inside, away from the cold..."

"Of course," Arathorn's widow nodded, following the regal elf inside.

A short time later, after passing through moonlit gardens and glittering hallways, they reached the Lord's Library. This room undoubtedly held more knowledge then any Man could imagine; texts, books and memoirs from Age's long past.

"There is always hope..." Elrond told her, as they made their way over to one of the seating areas. "For now though, you are certainly right. A child should not be raised in such chaos..."

"The Lords and our enemies will look for him, once they straighten themselves out." The young queen pointed out.

Elrond nodded, "Indeed... His being here, and yours as well, should then be kept a secret."

"But how?" she asked. "Someone is bound to here of our presence here."

"Perhaps," the Lord nodded, "but there are certain measures we may take to make it a bit more difficult.

"Such as?"

"Your names, for one." 

"We should change them?" the Queen inquired. "To what?"

"Well..." Elrond held her gaze for a moment, before nodding. "I do believe the name Eärwen suits you."

"Eärwen..." Gilraen thought about it for several minutes, before nodding. "Yes, I like it very much, thank you." She looked down at her child, who even now lay asleep in her arms. "And what of my son?"

"Your son," Elrond nodded, "Is the Hope of Gondor, and the Hope of Man. Therefore, I can think of no better name then Estel."

"Hope..." 'Eärwen' nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes, Estel..."

"I will have a servant escort you to your chambers." Elrond offered, rising gracefully.

Eärwen nodded, "Yes, thank you, Lord Elrond."

A short time later saw the young queen placing her son in an Elven crib, which had been placed beside her bed. She looked around, relief evident on her exhausted, but nonetheless beautiful features. Turning back to the crib, she checked the blankets to make sure her child was warm, before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Good night, my dearest Hope..."

~ * ~

Harry waited until he could no longer hear the other Wizards, which meant they were in fact off the grounds, before speaking. "Are the Dursleys already abed?"

"Uma," Violet nodded as she, Eric and Chris entered the parlor and took seats around the room. "They have been for some time."

"So," Eric sighed, "What now?"

After several moments' consideration, the wizard replied. "If I remember correctly, there are records of 'True Elves' in the Hogwarts Library..." he murmured, making his way over to the windows that offered an exquisite view of the garden. "And my lady-mother advised that we contact them."

"Then we shall," Violet agreed with a nod.

The wizard returned the nod, "Uma... Elrohir, Camthalion," he sighed, nodding to them firmly. "You two must travel to the Elven capital of this world, and negotiate with them. Tell them the truth, and ask their aid..."

Elrohir frowned, "And how are we supposed to find them?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "_I_ can sense them even now, so I'm certain you can." He thought a moment, then sighed. "I'm not sure, but I think you should start in the Forbidden Forest by Hogwarts... I could always feel something akin to Elven magic near there... so they be closer to there."

Both twins nodded.

"We'll leave at dawn," Chris offered.

The adopted prince of Lothlórien nodded, "Hannon le, mellon nin." He sighed even more deeply then before. "You should get some rest."

The both nodded once again, and rose to make their way to bed.

Violet rose, halting them with her brilliant gaze. When she was sure she had their attention, she nodded gravely to them, "Arya na, mellon nin." {Be careful, my friends.}

With another set of nods, the twins departed, leaving the pair alone. 

~ * ~

__

"Yello le, Atar?" {You called, Father?}

Lord Elrond looked up as his two twin sons entered the Library, bowing slightly before seating themselves across from him. "Uma," {Yes,} he nodded, "Noa nin, tenvoite le intya o Gondor?" {I assume you have heard the news from Gondor?}

"Haran ta qualin," {The king is dead,} Elrohir nodded, "haranien roina..." {the kingdom in ruin...}

His twin, Elladan, continued, "Turinqui ar aryon wanwa." {The queen and the young heir are missing.}

"Laa," {No,} Elrond shook his head, "Ilwanwa. Tulya e arinya si anduune." {not missing. They arrived earlier this evening.}

"A... tana nin mankoi teema ta uuvea si telwa." {Ah... I'd wondered why the servants were so busy at this late hour.} Elladan nodded. "Tulkya e sinome?" {So they will be staying here?}

"Mi nulla, uma." {In secret, yes.}

"Arta ingem aryon o Isilduir siin?" {And how old is Isildur's heir now?} Elrohir inquired, "Noa nin sanwa, ta nessa." {If I recall correctly, he is very young.}

"Ta dan seldo o atta yeen." {He is but a child of two years.} His father and lord replied.

Elladan nodded, "Kordon ta Arwen sinome, hene ve ta kola o seldo nessa." {Would that Arwen were here, she would like to help care for one so young.}

"Heen ta," {She would,} Elrond nodded in agreement.

Elrohir sighed, "Levoite tenho heen?" {Have you heard from her?}

"Kolaho nin heen neldaree wanwa. Heen ta mae mii mar o ilindyo, arta tulka eno mintya luume." {I received a letter from her three days ago. She is doing well in your Grandparent's House, and plans to stay there for quite some time.} Their father replied.

Elladan nodded, "Heen martya e... ala mintya sina luume." {She misses him still... after all this time.}

"Men ilya iluya," {We all do,} his father nodded, "lempe-randa ilta luume ta ilenyale mellonser... ilta oira ta..." {500 years isn't enough time to forget a loved one... no more then eternity is...} 

~ * ~

It was only a few short moments after his friends' departure that Harry Potter; the Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior or the Wizarding World, and the adopted Prince of the Lothlórien Elves released another deep sigh.

"Maar ta le, melda nin?" {How are you?} The Elven Lady inquired gently, walking up alongside him. She was certainly quite a site to behold in the moonlight, as its luminescent rays set her stunning Elven gown alight, making it look like it glowed with the same ethereal beauty the lady herself did.

"Ve mae veli na enga," {As well as can be expected,} he replied quietly.

Violet took his hand, steering him over to the couch, and directing him to sit. Once he'd done so, she reached over the back of the chair to begin massaging his shoulders. "Tana maure-voite na ruukina an le..." {That must have been hard for you...}

Harry nodded, "Ta na..." {It was...} he sighed. "Dan ta aume darole..." {But it couldn't be avoided...}

"Laa," the purple-eyed lady agreed, "ta aumevoite na." {it could not have been.} She murmured as she continued rubbing the knots out of his shoulders, her delicate hands moving with the grace of her people as well as the ease and confidence of an experienced masseuse. After several minutes of this, she shook her head, "Man ta nwalya le?" {What else is bothering you?}

The wizard remained silent for several minutes before finally shaking his head and replying. "Ilhanya nin... dan... e nale te _nessa!_ Ilya o tîn! Oii tuure!" {I don't know... but... they seemed so _young!_ All of them! Even the teachers!}

"Umale e veela," {Of course they did,} Violet nodded, her hands falling down slightly to his upper back, where she began rubbing the area where his shoulder blades met. "_Ena_ nessa, Elerossë... ðe quentele, i Headmaster ne laa san randa ar lempe-kainen yeen. Nale enta atta-kainen-randa ayaare e, titta noa..." {They _are_ young, Harry... You said yourself, the Headmaster is no more then 150 years old. You are therefore at least 2000 years older then him, at least mentally...}

"Sanda!" {Exactly!} Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Man ta intyale ta wanya ata Hogwarts ar tyaro ilnat ta martle? Titta enyalie-voite nin o Hogwarts!" {How am I supposed to go back to Hogwarts and pretend nothing's happened? I can barely _remember_ what Hogwarts was like!}

Violet chuckled, "Tas enyale le man maure le ta enyale... Dan en ta ulmusa ta (that)...?" {You will remember what you need to remember.... But there is more to it then that...?}

Finally, the wizard relented, "Uma..." he replied, releasing a deep sigh with his grave nod. "~" {It wasn't just that they are young in years...} he shook his head, "Evaa nale... ilnyeere ar ilnoa."{They just seemed so... innocent and naive.}

"Evoite tyaro ilnat yana na makale manie levoite." {They have experienced nothing that can compare to what you have.}

"Manie _men_voite." {What _we_ have,} Harry corrected gently with a sigh.

His lady laughed softly, "Uma," she nodded, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. " Manie menvoite." {What we have...}

"E uya noa naike, tevie, osse... Imbe ana Zigur, Voldemort ta dan seldo... Ar (si/sina) paulurin, amil paulurin nin, ta dan seldo..." {They do not know the pain, the hatred, the terror... Next to Sauron, Voldemort is but a child... And this world, my mother world, is but a child...}

"Ar le ilna," {And you are not,} Violet nodded.

Harry sighed, and nodded.

Violet sighed as well, shaking her head as she moved around the chair with the grace inherent to her people, and then sat herself down on the right armrest with that same grace. She gently drew the wizard's brilliant green eyes to her own namesake pair, before replying. "Children are only children for so long, melda nin."

He didn't miss her choice of speaking in the Common Tongue (English), and followed her example with an ease born of plenty experience. "True... but can I ever hope to see them grown?"

"They may seem like, and _be_, children in many ways," Violet murmured, while slowly shaking her lovely head. "But in truth: they are not... You are seeing them an many Elves see Man-"

"Perhaps that is partially true, but only just," Harry interrupted. "I see the world as it is. It may be that Man has too much power in this world, no one to help reach a balance..." he shook his head once again. "On Middle Earth the other Races hold Man in check... But here, the Dwarves are even more (solitary) then they are on Middle Earth, and the Elves..." he sighed. "According to the Hogwarts records, they have not come into contact with the Mortal World in centuries..."

"So, with the option of fighting against other Races denied them, they choose to instead fight amongst themselves." Violet sighed, "Even the Elves of Middle Earth aren't far beyond that, melda nin..." she raised a hand to forestall his protests. "Yes, melda nin. The Race of Man is young, but that does not mean that _all_ of its members are... don't lost faith, they may surprise you."

Harry took several moments to consider her words, before finally nodding in understanding. "You're right," he sighed. "Hannon le, melda nin."

She leaned down to place a (loving) kiss on his brow. "Ilya luume, melda nin." {Any time.}

**__**

End of Chapter 3.

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Translations:

Hon – he

Antuulien – has returned 

Zigur! - Sauron! [AN: What?! I couldn't find anything, and don't you think his name could be considered profanity in the Elven language? ...even just a little bit?]

Laa! - _No!_

Hannon le - Thank you

Uma - Yes

Melda nin - my beloved

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Response to Reviews:

Serpent of Light - LOL, thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

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Star Mage1 - Thank you, I'm glad you like it.

LOL, well you kind of got their reactions, but you'll have to wait a bit longer for them to learn the truth. 

Yes, Harry is _very_ advanced, thanks you Hermione's gift... that would be why he didn't actually say how far he was in the book... he finished it a _long_ time ago, but according to the HP world's timeline, he only got the book the night before!

*Sigh* This is something that took me a lot of research and a lot of math to figure out... and I'm still not entirely sure it's correct. Physically, Harry looks like he's in his late teens/early twenties... Mentally, he's 2189 years old... 

Thanks!

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Xirleb70 - LOL, thank you, I'm glad you like it. I'm sorry about the wait for this chapter, but it wasn't the easiest thing to write... I had a bit of a block on it, so it took be awhile to finish...

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Insanechildfanfic - Thanks, I'm glad. 

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Jess - Sorry about the wait.

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Saurman the White - Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

*Sigh* I know, it can be a bit confusing at times, but I like to do that for two reasons;

1. I honestly think it adds a little flavor to the story... although I do realize I go overboard a lot.

2. When I run into a case of writer's block, translating the Elvish actually helps me overcome it more often then not.

Thank you for reading and reviewing, and I do apologize if the Elvish confuses you.

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The Wold of Were - LOL, thank you, I'm glad _someone_ likes them! ^_^

Actually, I write most of them myself. So far I've been using a bunch of sites online for the words. I honestly can't remember where I got them, though. I found one dictionary online and downloaded the text onto my computer, so I don't remember where the site itself was... And the other one I use the most I also downloaded, it was from a site that translated and explained all of the Elvish used in the _Fellowship_ and the _Two Towers_. 

If I can find the sites again, I'll give you the URL.

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Rachel R. - Hi! ^_^

Thank you, I'm glad you like it.

LOL, I know, I prefer longer chapters, but sometimes I just get stuck, so I'll post what I have just to see if it's worth continuing... Usually, I try to keep my chapter somewhere around fifteen to twenty pages long.

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Fear Mage - LOL. Thank you. I'm glad you like it. 

Sorry about the wait. 

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The Elfin Child - LOL... This wait wasn't quite as bad... was it? 

Point?

Hmm... point... 

Do I have a point? 

Oh! Yes! I remember... 

Err... but I can't tell you.... Sorry...

Once again, sorry for the wait. 

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Clingon87 - LOL, thanks. ^_^

I'm sorry about the wait. Was it worth it?

I think the plot's original... at least I hope so, as I'd hate to unintentionally copy someone else... I know some other people have done some similar things, but nothing quite like this...

Well, *Winces* now I suppose you're going to have to wait again... Sorry. 

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Jessyka - Thank you.

Sorry about the wait. 

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GunSmoke2 - ^_^ Thanks, sorry for the wait. 

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Megz2 - Hi ^_^

Thank you, very, very much. 

*Laughs evilly*... Yes, actually... That will undoubtedly be a bit of a problem back at school... He's had more then two thousand years to do his homework and study the Hogwarts Library! Granted, it didn't take him that long, but he did spend plenty of time studying it! 

Yeah... that's one of the things he's a bit worried about... But we'll have to wait and see! :-P

Sorry about the wait... That was the scene that actually took me so long... was it worth it?

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Jr.book worm - Thank you. ^_^

Sorry about the wait.

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Maggie - LOL, that's good to hear... ^_^

Yes, I'd like live a bit longer myself...

You have five brothers? Cool... What's _that_ like?

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Callie-chan1 - Well, here it is. ^_^

Thank you, I'm glad you like it... 

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Lady Phoenix Gryffindor - Thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

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Prd2bAmerican18 - LOL, well, there you have their reactions to the physical changes...but you'll have to wait a bit for the rest... ^_^

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Jiltanith - Wow... that good, huh? Thank you very, very much. That's quite a compliment. Thank you.

LOL, I'm working on LS... really, I am. I'm a bit stuck at the moment, and V-Star's been gone for awhile, so we're still trying to get back into the swing of things. I will be trying to update soon though.

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Wytil - Umm... she's not his _wife_, per say... but you'll have to wait until the other HP characters really meet her for that... sorry.

Elrohir & Camthalion are just very close friends, they aren't related to Harry by blood... You'll learn more about that later... 

Thanks, I'm glad you like it.

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Oprelia - Thank you very much.

Sorry about the wait... was it worth it? 

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AN: Well... That's it for Chapter 3! I hope everyone liked it! I'll try to update again soon, but I want to update my other stories too, and I have to get ready for school... *sigh*, how did summer go by so fast?... I'll _try_ to update soon, but that's all I can promise. 

Please review!

This chapter was _hard_, and I don't expect the next one to be any easier, so I _need_ encouragement!

Please

__

Please

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Please

Please

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Bye! ^_^

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~ Jess S


	5. Chapter 4: Ne Laure

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

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There and Back Again

Chapter 4: Ne Laure

By Jess S

**__**

Earth - 'Dursley's' London Townhouse - August 15th, 1995

"Valina arin, melda nin..." {Good morning} Violet smiled as her prince entered the breakfast parlor. She was a picture of Elven beauty, seated at the breakfast table in a form-fitting white sundress (probably, Harry knew, one of the ones his aunt had ordered for her) with tan sandals adorning her feet. 

Harry nodded, returning the greeting with practiced ease, "Valina arin, melme nin..." he looked around, raising an eyebrow. "Mammen ana inosse o Dursley?" {Where are the Dursleys?} He too, wore summer attire. Tan khaki-pants hid much of his finely polished dragon-hide boots, the belt that ran around his waste, couldn't be seen, thanks to the white silk shirt that smoothly concealed it.

The Elf nodded to the seat across from her, the gesture also encompassing the food laid out on the table. "Selli-o-amil nin na nostale termara an kare ten asps man, esse wanya an titta wanwie." {Your aunt was kind enough to prepare breakfast for us, before they left a short time past.}

"Aa... an apsa?" {Ahh... for breakfast?} He guessed.

She nodded, "Uma."

The 'Boy'-Who-Lived sighed, shaking his head slightly as he took the seat she'd offered moments earlier. "Handasse e Camthalion ar Elrohir?" {Any news from Chris and Eric?}

"Laa," Violet shook her head gracefully, before taking a sip of her orange juice. "Dan taer atta emquie wanwie... Illuume ana hirihoopa o ilsoore ana hilya." {But only two weeks have past... Hardly enough time to find a Haven with no trail to follow.}

Harry nodded, "Anwa..." {True...} he sighed, "Ananta ilna nin halya noale." {But I can't help worrying.}

"Tanya titta vaniman na le tana an kanuva." {That simply proves that you're a good leader.}

"Hannon le," the wizard smirked, shaking his head. They sat in silence for some time, before he sighed once again. "Im omentale mellon nin mi Diagon Alley an arie," {I'm meeting my friends in Diagon Alley today,} he reminded her. "Voite noa le--?" {Have you decided--?}

She cut him off. "Wanya nin... tana o imae, ilumbar nin." {I will go... it would be for the best, I don't doubt.}

The wizard nodded once again. "Uma... you can only benefit from learning another form of magic, and to really learn this one, you need a wand... As far as I know, Ollivander's is still the best place around."

"We'd best be on our way, then," Violet murmured, nodding to the clock. "Weren't you meeting them around ten?"

"Uma," Harry nodded, finishing off his late breakfast before waving his hand to clear/clean the table. "Ten wanya man." {Let's go.}

~ * ~

**__**

Back on Middle Earth - Rivendell, 2951 of the Third Age

Aragorn Elessar, known to the Elves as 'Estel' had grown up peacefully in the House of Elrond. He had had a truly privileged childhood, but he wasn't spoiled. Lord Elrond had trained him well, and his outlook on life was far more humble then most of his kindred, even as he himself bore a great deal more potential then much of his race. 

He was ten years old when Bilbo Baggins had found the One Ring in the Misty Mountains, eleven when the hobbit placed it on his mantel in his little Hobbit Hole back on the Shire. 

During his teenage years, he'd traveled along side Elrond's sons on many great adventures, and when he returned to Imladris, at the age of twenty, his foster-father had every right to be proud in calling him 'doore-nîn' - or 'son of my heart'. It was on that day, that the Lord of Imladris decided that it was time 'Estel' learned his true name, and heritage.

The knowledge... both shocked, and humbled him... to say the least. It made him all the more aware of his kindred's faults, and faults he therefore considered his own... Thus was why he did not object when Lord Elrond gave him all but one of the heirlooms of the House of Elendil. He was given the Ring of Barahir and the Shards of Narsil, but the Scepter of Annuminas, was withheld, until, the Elven Lord had said, it was truly earned.

All this weighted his young heart for a remarkably short time, thanks to the uncommonly kind hands of Fate. For it was the very next day that the heir of Isildur met the Evenstar...

It was a most joyous occasion indeed, as the Lady of Rivendell had been gone for over fifty years, and this was the first time she'd chosen to return. This joy was (unusually) (obvious) on the faces of her family, her father most of all.

"Mae govannen mar, yende nin." {Welcome home, my daughter.} Were the Lord's words of greeting before he took the cloaked rider into his arms, into a (loving) embrace, which she did not hesitate to return in full. "Hiisele le navoite..." {You have been missed...}

Aragorn couldn't help but notice how pleasantly harmonious the lady's voice was as she replied, "Hannon le, Atar... Mae le ve iise nin..." {Thank you, Father... I missed you as well...} she stepped back out of his embrace slowly, glancing around, and nodded to her brothers. "Ilya o le..." {All of you...}

It wasn't until that moment, when the Elven princess pulled back the hood of her cloak, that Aragorn was able to view the beauty of the Evenstar, and fully acknowledge how worthy she was of the name. 

Beauty... didn't describe her. Her features, ears and skin certainly proclaimed her an Elf, but there was more to it then that...

Aragorn didn't think that it was the ethereal glow of her skin, the light of her smile, the shimmering ebony wave her hair formed, or the flawless precision of her delicate features, that made her renown as the most beautiful maiden of the Elven Kingdoms... 

But he didn't think it was merely her beauty that he felt drawing himself to her... It wasn't lust... He was, after all, twenty years old. He'd already lived through his teenage years, and he'd given up virginity long before now. The royal knew what lust was like, and how to resist it... This... was not that...

It wasn't until she looked up, meeting his eyes, that he was hit by the full effect of this... emotion.

He had only a moment to register the stunningly beautiful shade of her deep blue eyes, before he found himself sinking into them... loosing himself in them... becoming lost in their wondrous depths...

"Ai, Estel!" {Ah, Hope!} Elladan brought them back to the conscious world. "Tanya ta sanda! Ilvoite le moina selli în!" {That's right! You haven't met our dear sister!}

If any of the male-elves noticed their matching stunned expressions - which they may not have, as overjoyed as they were by the lady's return - they gave no sign of it. The Lord of Imladris, however, was never 'out of it' enough to have not noticed how long the two stared at each other before greeting one another.

"Ta ana alasse, heri nin..." {It is a pleasure, my lady...} Aragorn murmured while bowing over her delicate, proffered hand and placing a soft, barely noticeable kiss on it's pale surface. 

Arwen nodded, her eyes still a little wider then usual, a faint blush touching her fair features. "Maure nin quente inyaare, Estelhur..." {I must say the same, Lord Hope...} she nodded, apparently regaining the ability to speak, albeit sounding somewhat breathless. "Ten nosse nîn - laa, nosse în - quente na uutitta o le." {For my family - no, our family - has spoken very highly of you.} 

"Levoite na i Galadrim?" {You have been staying in the Galadrim?} he inquired politely, once again not able to help but notice splendor of her smile.

"Uma," she nodded, "Ten faare luume... dan sii... valina nin ana na mar..." {For some time.... but now... I am glad to be home...}

~ * ~

**__**

The Leaky Cauldron, August 15th, 1995

The Leaky Cauldron was its usual-self; rather dingy in appearance, crowded and loud in occupancy. Of course, that changed as soon as the door opened, and everyone saw whom it was walking inside. Had he still been a teenager, Harry undoubtedly would've had to struggle to ignore the stares of the pub's patrons. As it was, he didn't even appear to need to shrug them off, as he offered a bright smile before closing the door, which he'd actually left open for more then enough time for someone else to follow him through.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Harry quickly made his way over to the bar with an easy grace that one would think was truly unnatural on a teenage boy. "Good morning," he greeted the Wizarding bartender.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter!" Tom (the bartender) quickly replied. "Would you like anything?"

"Yes, please," Harry nodded, "A cup of tea, Earl Grey, hot." [AN: Can anyone name where that's from? ... And I don't own it.]

"Coming right up, Mr. Potter!" the almost completely bald wizard replied, hurrying through the door behind the bar that led to the kitchen. 

Had Harry not turned his eyes back to the other patrons, raising an eyebrow sardonically, they undoubtedly would've remained silent and staring for a long, long time. As it was, he did turn his eyes back to the other patrons, raising an eyebrow sardonically, causing them to quickly return to their conversations.

Harry didn't talk to anyone, but he did - occasionally - glance at an empty space beside him. A space he continued to make sure no one attempted to move through.

A Short time later 'Tom', quite literally, ran out of the kitchen with a tall glass of seaming, dark tea, only to have to force himself into a rather abrupt stop at the bar's edge, in order to set the drink down before his 'young' patron. 

Not long after that amusing escapade, in fact, it wasn't even long enough to allow the faint blush in the bartender's old, plump cheeks to fade, the pub's attention was once again drawn to one of its entrances. 

This time it was the fireplace: with a burst of green light announcing the arrival of a pair of identical redheads. Only moments later, their younger brother came through in the same fashion, only to collide with them, bringing all three of them to the floor. Had they bothered trying to actually move out of the way, rather then arguing, the smaller redhead that followed them wouldn't have any trouble coming through, anymore then the brunette that followed her. 

"Man almievoite, mellon lyaa." {Such grace your friends have...} Violet murmured quietly, her voice coming from the 'empty' space at his side.

Harry shook his head at both the Elf-maiden's words and his friends' antics. "Uume e?" {Don't they?} he replied quietly, before setting his empty tea-glass down on the counter and making his way over the pile of teenagers. "Need a hand?" he inquired, amusement clearly coloring his tone as he offered one.

"_Yes,_" Hermione gasped, reaching up to grab the proffered hand, and gasping again, this time out of surprise, as she was easily pulled to her feet.

Ginny blushed slightly, but also didn't hesitate to take the (_much_) older Gryffindor's hand as well. 

By that time, Fred and George had already found their feet, and were currently holding their brother up... actually, it looked a great deal more like they were holding him _down_, but...

"Morning, Harry!" one twin smiled brightly.

"Hope it's a good one!" the other finished, also smiling brightly.

"Oh, it has been, so far," Harry replied easily, offering a smile in return. 

"Fred, George! Come on!" Ron demanded, "Let me up!"

"Let you up?" Fred - or maybe it was George - blinked.

"Can't you get up on your own?" the other asked, a vision of innocence.

"Not with you holding me down, I can-"

He was cut off by another burst of green flame, which emitted his mother. Mrs. Weasley had, of course, waited to give the children time to get away from the exit, but seeing as three of them hadn't moved, she flew right into them. This sent them crashing down to the floor once again. Now, Mrs. Weasley herself would have also collided with the floor, face first, had it not been for a firm, but gentle grip, that suddenly appeared on her upper arm, supporting her.

Once she realized someone was holding her up, she carefully stepped over her pile of sons, rising once both her feet were set firmly on the ground. She then turned to thank her kind assistant, and was more then a little surprised to find that it was Harry himself who'd caught her, and was now stepping back to give her room. 

"Are you all right, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked politely, his expression blank while he inwardly cursed himself. [That's 'cursed' as in profanity, not 'cursed' as in magic... just thought I'd make that clear, ^_^*]

"O-oh, yes, yes, Harry, thank you," the redheaded witch replied, offering him a warm smile before turning to glare at her three youngest sons. "Up, you three! _Up! **Now!**_" she ordered, and once the three of them began to move, she turned on her heel and smiled at the other three members of their newly formed group. "Shall we?"

Harry returned the smile much more easily then the other two Gryffindors, before turning and walking over to the bar to toss a galleon on it. "Thank you," he nodded to the bartender, before turning again and walking over to the small door in the back, and opening it. He bowed to his friends, "After you?"

All three witches blinked, the younger two blushing slightly, before Mrs. Weasley caught herself again. "Oh, thank you, Harry." She replied as she quickly made her way over to, and through, the door, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins following in her wake. 

This time, Harry didn't leave the door open for a prolonged amount of time, but that may have been because Violet had plenty of time to pass through before the others. Whatever the reason, he closed it as soon at the twins had passed through, turning to watch as Mrs. Weasley tapped her wand on the appropriate bricks.

He remembered when he'd first entered the Wizarding shopping center, Hagrid at his side...

**__**

~ Flashback ~

"Three up... two across," Hagrid muttered as he counted the bricks above the trashcan. "Right, stand back, Harry." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella, and the bricks he had touched began to move. 

They quivered, and wriggle, and then, in the middle, a small hole appeared. That hole grew wider, and wider... A second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," Hagrid had said, grinning at Harry's amazement, "to Diagon Alley."

****

~ End of Flashback ~

But that wasn't what Mrs. Weasley said, for indeed, why should she? All of them had been to Diagon Alley before! Therefore, it was only appropriate that she skipped directly to, "First stop: Gringotts!" 

~ * ~

"So... that's it?" Tonks inquired after the Headmaster had finished his telling of supper at Harry Potter's new home. "They really just moved because they wanted to?"

"Yes, Nymphadora," Dumbledore nodded, "that seems to be the case..."

"But you don't really believe it?" Shacklebolt murmured quietly, his dark eyes inquisitive.

"Oh... I do believe that Harry's relatives wanted to move, and that they somehow happened upon a great deal of money..." 

"But there's more to it then that," Professor McGonagall continued. She thought a moment before continuing with a soft sigh, "Mr. Potter seems... different."

"Different?" Hestia Jones blinked, "Different how? The growth spurt?" she shook her head, "that's not too unusual for teenage boys... and even less so for those in our world."

"No," Remus shook his head, "Minerva's right... There's more to it then that. It's not just how much he's changed physically, although _that_ was certainly surprising enough... he has different mannerisms now..."

"What'd you mean?" Tonks asked.

The werewolf shook his head, "Well... I'm not sure... Harry was never overly emotional, but he did have a bit of a temper, and he tended to overdo things sometimes... now, I don't think he'd ever allow himself to lose control of _anything_... he's more reserved, more observant... _Darker_...and...."

"_...**Older**_," Sirius Black finished for his friend.

Everyone blinked at that... but after a moment's consideration everyone who'd visited Harry that two weeks prior nodded. 

"Yes," Remus agreed, "older... or at least more mature."

"So," Tonks raised an eyebrow, "what's the big deal? The Boy-Who-Lived grew up. So what? It really shouldn't be _that_ surprising, considering the events surrounding the Tournament. All of you were worried about how reserved he was acting then, this was probably just his way of coming to terms with it."

"That makes sense," Emmeline Vance agreed with a nod. "If he forced himself, or was forced, to mature a great deal mentally, that would explain the drastic physical change... his magic was trying to keep his body developing at the same rate as his mind."

"Perhaps..." Dumbledore nodded. After a moment's silence, he shook his head. "That very well may be... we'll have to look into it. Now, weren't you going to report on event's at the Ministry, Kingsley?"

~ * ~

"_Valar..._" Harry heard his invisible companion breath as they entered Gringotts. Violet was too intelligent to risk the other's hearing her, she hadn't spoken at all on the way here through the crowd streets. However, he knew all too well that she really couldn't help herself, and wasn't surprised by the word's that followed. "Ilistima enkalpa nin na iminya luu kenale nin i Yrch o Ennorath." {No wonder you were so surprised the first time you saw the Goblins of Middle Earth...}

Even though he'd been expecting it, the wizard had to suppress a chuckle at the quiet retort. Yes, he had been more then a little surprised when they'd run into the band of goblins on his way to Imladris a little more then two centuries after his arrival in Lothlórien. 

**__**

~ Flashback ~

[I know Harry's a little childish/OOC in this part, but I thought it would be amusing. And when you think about it, he couldn't have become as in control/mature as he's been for most of the story without a lot of experience, an experience comes from mistakes/bad judgement...]

__

"Serya sinome naman." {We shall rest here.} Haldir shook his head, chuckling faintly at his young companion's undisguised curiosity, mingled with anxiety. "Imesta ana Imladris ilta yana anda, mellon nin. Aro Quendelie, ar nessa istari, noa nin na, maude (an/ana/na) seere luuoluu." {The journey to Rivendell is not that long, my friend. And even Elves, and young wizards, I would assume, need to rest occasionally.}

"Dan-"

"Laa," the blonde shook his head again, a faint smile gracing the corners of his mouth. "Man na kara kaimen sinome sina moore, are na le mat ar serya." {We will set camp here tonight, and you will eat and rest.}

"Maer..." {Fine...} Harry sighed, shaking his head as he set his pack down beside the Elf's and looked around. "Elsanga titta runda ourwa nin nan," {I'll go gather some firewood," he offered, eager to explore some more.

Haldir laughed quietly, "Mae la, dan uume mista vahaiya, nessa haryon nin. Sina noore ilvoite na varya o titta luume, are ilnoa man idelu taan foa." {Very well, but do not stray far, my young friend. These lands have not been patrolled for some time, and we do not know what dangers they may hold.}

"Tanka!" {Sure!} the younger nodded in response, but obviously didn't considering these words overly serious. [I like that word ^_... -_-* ok, back to the story...]

As is often such the case with actions such as these, he shouldn't have done it. He should have listened. Had he done so, had he kept his guard up, he wouldn't have walked right into a goblin trap...

He'd been told, more then once, by his many Elven mentors to be on his guard in/around caves. One reason was it wasn't an area he, one of Elven training, would be overly adapt at fighting in. The other was the beings who could inhabit then, and therefore would be used to the surroundings, and well prepared to fight in them. Dwarves weren't anywhere near as much of a problem as Orcs, Ogres, and Goblins were. Even the Elves, while warring with the other kindred, would admit that. The Dwarven Race wasn't an evil one... the same could not be said for the others.

Therefore, Harry should have had his guard up when he was walking by the entrance to the cave anyhow, even without Haldir's warning. As it was, he had not been paying any mind... and was therefore quite surprised when a net was thrown out of it, to ensnare him. 

He was knocked out when his head hit the hard ground, and it had taken his elegant eyes some time to adjust to the dark when he awoke, so that he could see his captors, and even then, he hadn't known what they were... 

He'd seen Ogres before, and Orcs, as it wasn't overly unusual for them to try attacking the borders of the Galadrim, or it's occupants. These creatures were neither. They were certainly **ugly** enough to be considered part of either kindred, but they weren't big enough to be Ogres, or small enough to be Orcs... They were dressed in similar attire to what he'd been told Dwarves were known to wear, heavy metal and firm hide. [-_-* That sounds wrong, doesn't it?]

Harry didn't know what would've happened to him if he'd stayed their captive for very long. He didn't know what they intended to do to him, as they never got the chance to speak a word to him, and he didn't know what they were saying when they were yelling at each other in a harsh and garbled language much like that of the Orcs. Had he been captured several centuries later, after his time in one of the Dwarven kingdoms, he would've had at least a vague idea of what they were saying, as his Dwarven friends had taught him what they could of the Goblin language... But this didn't happen then, and therefore the young prince didn't have the slightest idea of what they were saying.

Honestly though, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what they'd been saying...

So it was lucky indeed that his Elven friend had managed to track them: which wasn't surprising really. Haldir was rather well known as both a skilled warrior and hunter, which meant he was therefore a good tracker. Had it been anyone else, they probably couldn't have pulled off what the Elven arms commander did... 

Convincing the Goblins that there were many Elves attacking them, and that they didn't stand a chance certainly couldn't have been easy, but the Elf managed it...

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his Elven friend cut the robes that were binding him. "Hannon le..."

Haldir nodded, but didn't reply as he pulled Harry to his feet and quickly led him out of the cave. It was only once they were outside that he did speak, after turning Harry every which way to scan his ruffled, and rather dirty appearance. "Na ilnaike le?" {You are not hurt?}

"Uma..." the wizard nodded, glancing back towards the entrance even as he was force to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. That had come as more then a bit of a surprise, for it hadn't been long after sundown that had found him gathering firewood. "Man na inat?" {What were those things?} he asked, frowning. 

This drew a blink from the Elf. "Yrch illaa." {Goblins, of course.}

****

~ End of Flashback ~

He didn't have to wonder where she'd heard the tale from, as her uncle had been his companion on that journey. While the Lórien Guardian was very reserved, even by Elven standards, he knew for a fact that the (much) older warrior was much more open with his close friends and family. And that incident being the case with him, and his vague memories of his first encounter with _these_ goblins, Harry didn't doubt that the Elven lady was having similar thoughts: albeit in reverse...

Compared to the large, violent and vindictive creatures he'd fought in his foster world, the hobbit-size, shrewd creatures with pointed beards and long fingers were rather... _pathetic_, but also quite bewildering to one who'd never think of goblins as such.

"_Faina'Varda_..." {_Varda's Light..._} Violet murmured quietly by his ear, obviously regaining some of her wit. "Yaare-nosse lyaa maurevoite dagle ilya oi ohtakyaro-yrch an sinale ana na noale Yrch!" {Your ancestor's must've wiped out all of the goblin warrior's for _these_ to be considered Goblins!}

Harry's small nod wouldn't have been noticed by anyone else. According to Hogwarts' records, during the Age the Wizarding School was built in, and in its' early years, the Wizarding World had been at war with many magical species, and the goblin's were one of them. That was something Harry remembered Ron has always laughed at before, and he had himself agreed with him then, imagining _these_ creatures - whose primary defenses were enchanted stone walls, laws, Wizarding guards, rumors of tamed dragons and nasty dispositions - fighting against the Founders. Now however, he had no difficulty imagining it, as Violet was undoubtedly right...

He didn't reply verbally, however, as he knew that while the hearing of the goblin's of Middle Earth couldn't compare to that of the Elves, he didn't doubt the shrewd creatures they were walking towards would notice _something_.

As it was, it really was a good idea he hadn't said anything, as he found out a moment later, when they'd finally found a goblin along the long marble counter who wasn't busy, a silvery voice halted their party in it's track. "_So_ you can actually afford to put money into the goblin's keeping? I _never_ would've guessed..."

Harry sensed Violet's slight bewilderment as all of them turned toward the voice, but she was the only one who didn't know who it was that had spoken.

"Mr. Malfoy," Mrs. Weasley nodded to him, pressing her lips tightly together as they watched Lucius Malfoy and his son glide over to them in two swirls of expensive silk. "How are you today?"

"Oh certainly much better then many other's I could name," the blonde drawled a faint smirk touching his otherwise emotionless, and flawless face.

Before anything else could be said, the clerk intervened in his cold, grating voice. "Now, now, they'll be none of that here. Or I'll be forced to call security."

"That won't be necessary," Mrs. Weasley greeted the goblin. "We've come to make two withdrawals, and one Muggle-Wizarding exchange."

The goblin eyed her closely for a long moment - well actually, it looked more like a glare - making the grown witch fidget slightly. "How much will the exchange be for, madam."

Mrs. Weasley waved to Hermione, "dear?"

Hermione nervously made her way up to the desk, quickly handing him several pounds. 

The goblin quickly sorted through the pieces of paper, running a long nail along the counter top, which seemed to make a drawer pop out from the counter in front of him. After he'd sorted the bills out into the drawer he pressed a button and a small pouch of galleons appeared on the counter top. "Here you are, miss."

"Thank you," Hermione replied quickly, before hurrying back to the others as the goblin turned to Mrs. Weasley again.

"And which two vaults do you wish to withdraw from?"

"The Weasley vault, and the Potter vault," the witch replied hurriedly, pulling two keys out of her robes and setting them on the desk. 

The goblin analyzed both keys closely, "And the owners are?"

"Myself and my husband," Mrs. Weasley replied, nodding to one of the keys, "and the other is Harry's." She finished, nodding to Harry.

At this, the goblin turned his gaze/_glare_ to the 'young' raven-haired wizard. Harry however, did not flinch or fidget, instead he appeared the picture of calm as he met the cashier's gaze. The moment he did so the goblin drew back slightly, his eyes widening and a glimmer of fear entering them. 

It wasn't Harry who looked away first, and when the goblin spoke again, the others were more then a bit confused by the note of nervousness in his voice. "V-Very well," ha managed, quickly handing Mrs. Weasley her key and offering Harry his. 

After a barely noticeable pause, Harry accepted the key with a nod. "Thank you, Mr...?"

"T-Tombstone, Grabble Tombstone," the goblin replied quickly, bowing his head slightly before continuing. "I will have someone take you down to both vaults... Digger!"

"Thank you," Harry nodded, finally (to the clerk's mind) turning his stunning eyes away from the clerk and watching as another, younger goblin approached them. He didn't miss the slightly confused look in the younger Malfoy eyes or the slight twitch at the corner of the elder's mouth as he did so.

'Digger' glanced at the party as he approached them, apparently deciding that this was a 'normal' withdrawal, that look changed however, when he met Harry's gaze. His eyes, like those of the other goblin (Tombstone), widened slightly: fearfully, as he froze. After a moment, he managed to collect himself, bowing a little more deeply then was technically proper for one of the Gringotts' Goblins, before turning to the desk clerk.

Before directing the younger goblin, the clerk looked/glared at the Malfoys, "Will you be making a withdrawal as well?"

"Yes," Mr. Malfoy smirked slightly, handing his shiny silver key to the goblin.

"That appears to be in order," 'Tombstone' nodded, before turning to 'Digger', "Take them down." 

~ * ~

**__**

Middle Earth - Imladris, 2979 of the Third Age

"Mere le yuuyo." {You miss them.}

The Lady of Imladris turned to watch her father's approach, "Ya, Atar?" {Who, Father?} she inquired. "Elerossë? Uma... Dan..."

"Uma, Elerossë..." the Lord of Imladris nodded, "ar Estel."

"Estel?" Arwen frowned, but nodded after a moment's thought. "Uma, intya nin." {Yes, I guess.}

Elrond smiled, "Hon yavoite na ortole mi mar, ve nosse, ar foa ilya înser, ananta enlyaa taare ilya naan." {He who has been raised in this house, as family, and holds all our affection, though more of yours then any other.}

The lady did not immediately reply, instead choosing to watch as the sun sank deeper into the horizon, setting her father's kingdom alight in a vast multitude of colors. The lord himself watched as well, choosing to remain silent as he awaited her response. Which she did eventually give: "Hon ta uuvea Atan... ila enuuvea fire manvoitre vorhanya. Hon ta noola ar melima... polda, dan ilhwesta..." {He is a great man... Perhaps the greatest mortal we've ever known. He is wise and fair... strong, but modest...} the dark-haired Elf murmured quietly, "Tana hon uume sii merne ana dîn men ned Taar o Gondor uume erda o hon maar anta. Hon er kaure nale raika heru, oquenie hon yesta na varya nosse în, ar naa, o i'leo..." {That he does not yet wish to take his place as Gondor's King does not take away from his good character. He simply fears being a poor ruler, so instead chooses to protect his people, and others, from the shadows...}

"Dan hon maure erree lembi i'leo ..." {But he must one day leave the shadows...} Elrond replied, his eyes still set on the setting sun. "Oi'noore o Atan na atalta, aro dîn, i'telwa estelo Ennorath." {Or the Race of Men will fail, and with them, the last hope for Middle Earth.}

Arwen nodded, "Hanya nin...dan ta hande umme hauta man ta oore nîn..." {I know... but that knowledge doesn't change what's in my heart...} she laughed quietly, sadly. "Sii saira nin yana Ránëwén tyarole taare gwennin in enninath, iire Elerossë mestale i-loona eda veela onat ilhanya man. Lemballe dîn na noa manar tîn, engae i'istya ilvoro hyara hon...." {I now understand how Violet acted those years long past, when Harry traveled across the lands in search of something we know not. Thus leaving her to consider their fate, even as the knowledge never left him....}

The Lord of Imladris nodded, "Ta nai kallo, si taitale tyaro... Ar Elerossë _ i'maa o Vairë umya inat, e hon tuure usin o arya, oi metya." {It was an honorable, if prolonged act... And Harry knew the Vairë's hands weren't something even he could escape or manipulate, in the end.}

"Enan taare le?" {Any more then you?} Arwen murmured, finally turning her eyes away from the horizon, to her father.

"Mere umme nin (an/ana/an) tulwe eni tie o maranwe. Il'Im titta i'ilhanda tana Thingol erinle anna, selda nin..." {I do not attempt to stand in the way of destiny. I am not quite the fool that Thingol proved to be, my child...} Lord Elrond replied, before he also turned his head slightly, meeting his daughter's gaze, a gaze identical to her mother's... "Mere nin er manta enmaar o le." {I only want what is best for you.}

His daughter nodded, "Ar Ennorath..." {And Middle Earth...}

"Illaa," {Of course,} The Elven Lord nodded. After a moment's pause, he sighed. "Ta na enmaaro le (an/ana/na) atayanwe lyaa ilindyo a Caras Galadhon... Noa nin tana Estel taina veelale mestale ta osteka..." {Perhaps it would be best for you to rejoin your grandmother in Caras Galadon... I believe Aragorn has been sited moving in its direction...}

~ * ~

Harry hadn't been surprised when Violet had first clung to his arm as the rattling cart they'd been piled into. There were two carts for their party, but Harry, (the invisible-Violet), and the Weasleys all piled into the back cart, rather then sitting with the two Malfoys and their Goblin-guide, in front. It wasn't overly surprising anyhow... _he_ a Wizard merely raised and trained by Elves, who'd also become a friend of the Dwarves, didn't like this. He could scarcely imagine how the tiny, rattling metal cart on the old rail which led them through the narrow stone passage ways, seemed to an Elven Lady. She didn't calm down until he risked moving her hand and grasping it lightly in his own, larger hand, while murmuring so softly that surely only the Elf and himself could here it, even with the Weasleys (and Hermione) packed around them. "Ta uyana ando, melda nin..." {It won't be long...}

"Aníron lena anwa, melda nin..." {I pray you are right...} she replied, just as quietly.

The slight tremble in her beautiful voice made him frown, but he knew he couldn't risk conversing with her at such close quarters. It was hard enough making sure she had room in the cart while making sure none of the Weasleys brushed up against her.

The first stop, was the Malfoy vault. The Weasleys, of course, didn't even glance toward the open door. They already knew the legendary wealth of the Slytherin family, they didn't need to see the two blondes openly flaunting it...

Surprisingly enough, the Weasley vault wasn't quite as (empty) as it had been the last time he'd seen it. There were many piles Knuts, a few piles of Sickles, and even a pile of Galleons inside. Mrs. Weasley carefully filled her bag with several handfuls of the coppers coins, then added two handfuls of the silver, and a few Galleons before exiting, closing the vault door behind her.

Of course, Harry hadn't let his surprise show, and even had a few guesses as to where the money had come from, but he didn't say anything. 

The Malfoys didn't say anything either, and Harry could tell from the tight look on the younger Malfoy's face that they'd been hoping to see an empty vault...

The blonde's were quite obviously curious about the contents of Harry's vault though. He highly doubted they'd say anything to him though. While the fortune he'd known as Prince of the Galadrim, and even the small portion of it he'd brought back with him, easily surpassed the money his parents had left for him, that didn't mean they hadn't been generous...

It was all too clear to Harry that the Malfoys weren't the least bit pleased with this journey as he watched them storm down the marble steps outside of the bank afterwards.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley smiled, and Harry suspected she'd also noticed the Malfoys discontent. "I suppose all of you'd like some time to yourselves...?" Not waiting for any responses, she continued, "So we'll meet back at Flourish and Blotts in two hours, alright?"

"Right!" The twins the first to reply right before they turned and hurried away their mother's call of: "And not _one step_ down Knockturn Alley!" following their retreating forms. 

"Mummy, I wanted to look for a new pair of robes..." Ginny reminded her mother.

"Yes, dear," the older redheaded-witch nodded, "I remember. We'll be heading their now." Before she leaving, she smiled at 'the Golden Trio', "Have fun, dears. And keep out of trouble!"

"Yes, ma'am," Both Harry and Hermione replied in unison with Ron's, "Yes, Mum..."

And then they were on their way. Harry didn't talk much, just listened and added a few comments every now and then, as he tried to get used to his childhood friends. As he tried to remember what it was like to _be_ a teenage wizard... 

He could feel Violet's silent support at his back, as she followed them, an invisible smile. Her presence didn't really bother him, and it made sense. She simply wanted to 'get to know' his friends in this world, the friends he'd waited so long to see again... 

But more then anything, he was just glad someone who _did_ know him was there...

~ * ~

"Severus," The Dark Lord Voldemort summoned the Potions Master from the gathered Death Eaters, "report."

The Head of Slytherin House quickly stepped forward, and bowed deeply before replying. "My lord... the Order hasn't discussed much of anything as of late, with the exception of the Potter boy."

"Oh?" For some reason this made the Dark Lord, and a few of the gathered Death Eaters release evil cackles. "Has the brat come to harm then?"

Severus Snape was _quite_ glad for his Death Eater mask at the moment, as he couldn't suppress his bewilderment in the slightest, physically or mentally. "No, my lord..."

"_No...?_" _This_ seemed to both surprise, and anger, Voldemort. "Then why do they discuss him...?"

"From what I can gather..." Snape began, taking his time as he remained carefully under the facade he'd held for a long time: that he was a Member of Dumbledore's staff and Order, but that didn't mean he was entitled to _all_ the Headmaster heard. "The boy's family moved to a new home, quite unexpectedly, and the Headmaster worried that the wards would not follow him."

"_And?_"

"I'm sorry to say, they did, my lord." Snape faked a sigh, lying smoothly.

Voldemort didn't appear surprised, he merely nodded after a moments thought. "It would be too much to hope for... but, no matter. There is still the possibility that I may be able to strike the boy myself, as some of his blood now flows in my veins..." After a moment, he nodded again. "Is there anything else, Severus?"

"No, my lord," Snape bowed, and remained in that position until the Dark Lord dismissed him a moment later.

"Very well, return to the Muggle-lover's side before you are missed."

~ * ~

Harry sighed as he dropped down into one of the chairs by the back of the store. He was inside the Muggle bookstore beside the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for the Elven lady he'd missed all afternoon - for she'd left after a little while, to explore Diagon Alley a little more, and shop. 

"Ehored nin, Im abdollen," {Forgive me, I'm late,} Violet apologized, dropping gracefully down into the chair across from him, handing the silvery bundle she carried to him, as she did so.

"Ernin titta tulyale." {I only just arrived.} The wizard replied smoothly, while taking in the bags she'd set on the floor. He raised an eyebrow. "Meryavoite?" {Have fun?}

"Aa, uma!" {Oh, yes!} Violet smiled. "Im sii harya lanne o Wizarding!" {I now own a Wizarding wardrobe!} She told him proudly.

He rolled his eyes, which earned his shoulder a playful slap.

"A ilran!" {Oh, hush!} she told him, "Ninvoite wanwa titta kolindole, dan tana maureta. Ar sii ninna entitta!" {I may have gotten a little carried away, but it was worth it. And now I'll fit in a little more!}

Harry smiled slightly, shaking his head. He knew how much the last bit meant to her. She was worried about not being accepted by his friends and family, just as he'd once worried that his foster kin wouldn't accept him. But he knew she'd have to spend a bit of time with the people themselves before she realized her worries had no grounds, just as he'd once realized. "~" {That is true,} he admitted, his tone clearly saying he was humoring her, which earned his poor shoulder another whack. 

"Ilran!" {Hush!} Violet repeated, smiling while she scolded him. Then she decided to try another tactic, "Ya quente sina: ninna kena i'ana le loo, ar ilyanat uume le, man na horta ata!" {How about this: I'll show them to you tonight, and anything you don't like, we can send back!}

The wizard laughed, "Dan veela maar leen ilyanat!" {But you look good in everything!} But he nodded in agreement nonetheless. "Anwa, anwa... Ne man elana Ollivander's san?" {Fine, fine... Shall we proceed to Ollivander's then?} He asked, rising to his feet and picking up four of her five bags, after he'd brought the hood of his cloak up, so that is shadowed his forehead. 

Violet smiled brightly, also standing and grabbing the other two bags. "Mankoi ilna man putta eni'mar minya?" {Why don't we stop at the house - for the bags - first?}

"Ilya ranwa," {All right,} Harry shrugged.

"Arman uya na lumnale nai mestale an'o i'olweno-karne, enilya ne ilumme lumna man iire mantana..." {And then we won't be burdened by them traveling to, or from, the wand-maker's, anymore then they shall bother us while we are there...}

Harry smiled, nodding in agreement before nodding his head toward the door. "Heri minya..." {Lady's first...} 

~ * ~

**__**

Middle Earth - Lothlórien, 2980 of the Third Age 

In the Elven kingdom of Lothlórien there was a hill where the Elf King Amroth built his house during the Second Age of the Sun. Songs of the Elves tell how in sorrow for his lost love, the Elf maiden Nimrodel, Amroth threw himself from an Elven ship and drowned in the sea. By the end of the Third Age his house had long vanished, but it was considered an enchanted place full of beauty and sorrow of star-crossed love. [AN: I don't own that passage, it was taken from page 71 of Tolkien, the Illustrated Encyclopedia... but I thought it was pretty, so I used it! Don't sue!]

It was here that the Lady of Light herself had betrothed the son of her heart to his soul mate, Lady Ránëwén Galathil in 1900 of the Third Age. And it was here that she now, over one thousand years later, betrothed her granddaughter to the heir of Isildur. 

Cerin Amroth was indeed a place to behold, covered in Elanor flowers, which made it appears as though millions of tiny golden starts had fallen from the heavens to set it alight, and Niphredil flowers, which were instead small stars of the purest white. It had seemed like the only suitable place for the Galadrim's foster-prince and his soul mate to be betrothed, and the ceremony was one of the most wonderful highlights of Arwen's life. For she had been one of the few privileged enough to attend the actual ceremony, while most others waited a short distance away, their voices filling the air with blessed, rejoicing harmony, as they did now. It had indeed been a small party present here, larger then the present one, but still small nonetheless.

****

~ Flashback ~

While she'd been surprised to see Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, in attendance, she knew she shouldn't have been. After all, this was technically a royal betrothal within the Elven kingdoms, which was rare indeed, and no one, at least out of the Elder race itself, would ever turn down an invitation to such an event. This therefore meant that all of the Elven-monarchs now knew the truth of Harry's existence. She had been a bit disappointed though, to see that Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, and a dear friend of hers, hadn't come with his father. It was a pity, she didn't doubt he was out adventuring, but she knew, for one thing, he'd wanted to see the Galadrim for quite some time, and for another, she thought he and Harry would have liked each other a great deal...

Everyone else in attendance was no surprise. Obviously Lady Galadriel was there to perform the ceremony, her husband at her side. Arwen herself had come with her father, her brothers and Lord Glorfindel, only a few days earlier, at the Lady's summons. They had, of course, been accompanied by many more elves, as the journey required guards, but Glorfindel was the only one out of them who was really close enough to Harry and Ránëwén to be in immediate attendance. Then of course, there were Ránëwén's family, or what was left of its once numerous members. Lord Haldir, her brother's father and her second cousins, Elrohir and Camthalion Aeternas, were all that remained of her direct family. Her father, Lord Angaráto Galathil, had been killed when escorting Arwen's own mother, Celebrían to Lothlórien in the early years of second century of the third age, so that the Lord and Lady might meet their grandchild. His sacrifice undoubtedly saved both the Lady of Imladris and her daughter, but it also meant the death of his wife. Lady _ tried, but heartbreak is one of the few illnesses that can slay an Elf, and so she quite literally faded out of existence a little over a decade later, leaving her daughter to her brother-in-law's care. 

That was one of the reason's Ránëwén was so highly favored by the rulers of both the Galadrim and Imladris. Her father they remembered as both a good friend and a great hero, and her mother's death had left her an orphan. Haldir, having never wed himself, relied heavily on the Lady of the Galadrim's advice, as well as the affection his rulers, and the rulers of Imladris showered on her. It may have been for that reason that Ránëwén Galathil and Arwen Undómiel were such close friends, as close as sisters...

Whatever the case, the party that now watched the ceremony atop the glorious hill was small, but that did not mean the joy surrounding it was so...

****

~ End of Flashback ~

Arwen had to smile at that memory, even as she heard her grandmother finishing the binding, she knew it would be her turn to speak next, and she knew what it was she would say. She had thought on it a long time, just as she knew Ránëwén had, long ago. Finally, her time to speak came...

[If you don't recognize this dialogue... I'm not quite sure why your reading this, but anyway, I don't own it!... And obviously I've made this a bit AU, too...]

"Renich i lú i erui govannem?" {Do you remember the time when we first met?}

Aragorn smiled slightly, shaking his head, "Nauthannen i ned ôl reniannen..." {I thought I had strayed into a dream...}

"Gwennin in enninath..." {Long years have passed...} the Lady of Rivendell continued, bring a loving hand up to caress his cheek. "Ú-'arnech in naeth i si celich." {You did not have the cares you carry now.} Here, she paused, thinking back on what those words meant, and how they compared to her best-friend's relationship with her 'little-uncle' [You know, Harry is technically still younger then her, so she thinks of him as her 'little uncle'... Which probably annoys him to no end, as he's only 3 years younger then her... ok, back to the story.] Finally, she continued, her voice only loud enough for her intended to hear. She knew that those a short distance from them would not listen, as it was custom for some words to be exchanged in private during the ceremony, usually words that queried assurances of their intended's commitment. "Renich i beth i pennen?" {Do you remember the word I told you?}

He looked down slightly, his eyes halting on the Evenstar, the beautiful pendant his beloved's mother had given her, which all thought signified her enduring beauty better then any mirror. "Quente le, ilumya le anta lyaale ana nin..." {You said, you'd bind yourself to me...} he whispered, shaking his head as he brought his eyes back up to meet her own, captivating gaze. "...kalpa oiale, ilfirin kuile... o nosse lyaa..." {...Forsaking, the Immortal life... of your people...}

"Aran tana foa nin," {And to that I hold,} the Elven princess replied, her voice firm, her sapphire gaze earnest. "Mere nin yesta er kuile-luu o le... taare anta ilya randa osina noore er..." {I would rather share one lifetime with you... then face all the ages of this world alone...}

Before he could respond to that, he felt her press something into his hand, and looked down to find the star-like pendant resting there. He shook his head, his brows drawing together ever so slightly as he sought to deny what this meant. "No..."

"Merne nin, Fiirimo kuile..." {I choose, a Mortal life...} Arwen Undómiel finished, a slight smile on her fair face. She'd set that a little more loudly, knowing the smile it would bring to all the faces around them. Legolas had been able to make it to this betrothal ceremony, though he'd never heard of what he'd missed the two previous times his father had journeys to the Galadrim. Mithrandir had, oddly enough, never meant Harry either, and there'd never come a time any of those trusted felt right to speak of him... But with the exception of those two, all here had been present when Ránëwén had said words very similar to those... When she'd chosen to follow him to his world. For they knew that there, he was Mortal, and so it was a Mortal life, in an alien world, that she would be forced to lead.

He quickly looked up, shaking his head, "Umya le anta nin si!" {You cannot give me this!}

She chuckled slightly, her eyes alight with joy, "Ta ni antanna anya iire nin...." {It is mine to give to whom I will....} She replied, while bringing both of her hands up to his, "...ve oore nin..." {...like my heart...} The princess finished, gently, but firmly closing his hand around the Evenstar. 

Neither were truly aware of the smiling group around them, as the confusion and denial slowly, resignedly left the Man's eyes and they drew closer to one another. For shouldn't it only be right, that a betrothal ceremony, much like a wedding, would end with a kiss?

**__**

End of Chapter 4.

****

Translations:

Ne - By means of...

Laure - Gold

(This is, technically, an explanation, more then a translation...) Vairë - Vairë, the Weaver - One of the (15) Valar. She is the wife of Mandos (God of Death) and the weaver of Fate, as she weaves the tapestries that hang on the walls of the Halls of Mandso and tell the tale of world to the end of Time... [I got a _lot_ of that out of _Tolkein; The Illustrated Encyclopedia_, **great** resource for LOTR! ^_^] Basically, she's Fate.

Melda nin - My beloved

****

Response to Reviews:

Wow! 18 of you for the last chapter! Thanks! ^_^

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Xirleb70 - LOL... sorry.

Yes, they do. 

Oooh, I'm really sorry. I tried, but this chapter was a bit harder then some of the others... How was your first week of school?  
  
**Lady Cinnibar** - *Flinches* I really don't want to think about that... Yes, "Yuck" is a good description for it... "Yuck"... yup.

Thank you very much, I'm glad you liked it. How was this one?  
  
**Tonda** - LOL, thanks, I'm glad.

Thank you, they're fun to write... most of the time, so I don't mind doing them. I just get a little ticked off when people tell me to stop doing them... I know what you mean about the translations. I hate that!   
  
Hmm... I think I sent you an email on a few HP/LOTR crossovers... did you look at those? I know that they weren't all great, but there really aren't that many of them out there (at least as far as I know there aren't...

Thanks. I hope you liked this one. ^_^

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The Elfin Child - LOL... What? ^_^ Thanks, I'm glad you liked it... That was _really_ fun to write... although I honestly have no idea where it came from... it was really just a filler scene, which took on its own form... 

Thank you, that's always good to hear. 

...That's not as good to hear... Are you feeling better? 

*Sigh* Thank you. *Returns hug*... I'm still mad at FF.net for that, but I guess it's not all that bad... I really just ignore it. 

^_^ Glad to hear it... hmm, ok. I can't promise exact translations though, just to warn you...   
  
**Saruman the White** - Good, I'm glad. ^_^ 

Yes, you would be correct. Thanks, she was a fun character to create, although we haven't really skimmed the surface of her character...yet... ^_~

*Sigh*... I try, I really do... but sometimes the fic's don't cooperate... sorry. 

*Coughs*... Umm... I'll have to get back to you on that...

  
**Prd2bAmerican18** - Thank you, I'm glad you like it. ^_^

  
**Silverstar6** - LOL... thanks. ^_^

How was this one? 

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Fear Mage - LOL, thank you, I'm glad you like it so much...  
  
**OrionTheHunter** - Good, I'm glad. I hope that's still your belief on the matter... ^_^   
  
**Callie-chan1** - LOL, your welcome.

I'm glad you like the story so far. What'd you think of this chapter? 

  
Thank you. ^_^  
  
**A-man** - LOL... Thank you, ^_^...

*Blink**Blink*... incest?... Umm... Well, as you said... They technically aren't related by blood... And Violet is Haldir's niece... She may be _distantly_ related to Galadriel and Cereborn... but I don't think so... Of course, that's actually something I wondered on the Aragorn/Arwen pairing. Technically, Aragorn was raised as Lord Elrond's foster-son, wasn't he? So then Arwen would be his foster-sister.... But, anyway... no I would not call this incest... at all... 

Thanks, I'm glad you like it... 

LOL... sorry, can't answer that. You'll have to wait and see! ^_~ (Don't worry, if I don't experience a _terrible_ case of writers block/get flamed... you won't have to wait long...)   
  
**Wytil** - ...

...

...Umm... no, sorry... 1 a week seems to be my max... although sometimes I can fit 2...

Thanks for your support.

  
**Lord Master Omega** - Thanks, I'm glad.  
  
**Star Mage1** - Thank you, I'm glad to hear it. ^_^   
  
...Sorry, you'll have to wait on that... I will say that Harry does have... some experience with Middle Earth Wizardry, which is an interesting story in itself... but you'll have to wait and see...   
  
**Lunarian** - Thank you. ^_^

LOL, I know, I like him too...   
  
**Jessyka** - LOL, yes, I have to agree with you on that... 

I'm glad to hear your enjoying the story... How was this chapter?   
  
**Potterlover2004** - LOL... Thank you very much. I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

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Serpent of Light -  
  
LOL, ^_^... I'm glad you like it so much.... Um-hmm, that only makes sense, doesn't it? It's one of the problems he's having... When you talk to adults, they usually tell you (or at least, they usually tell me) that they really can't remember what it was like to be a kid/teenager... And Harry has to remember a _lot_ father back (over 2000 years!) then they do! 

Yes, you do. ^_^ 

Thank you, thank you. :-D 

LOL... Sorry, you'll have to wait on that... *smiles evilly* 

...Great, me too... but first, he has to have contact with his native world for awhile...

Great, what'd you think of this chapter? 

:-P Not telling... 

Thanks to Hermione's gift, he's _very_ advanced in the type of magic taught at Hogwarts... He's also rather adapt in different forms of magic from Middle Earth... but you'll have to wait for that... or, at least most of it...

LOL, I know. You told me last time. ^_^ ... Why does your Mom want to read you mail, for curiosities sake?

Thank you! ^_^

****

AN: Well, that's all for now! ... I tried to post this last night, but FF.net wouldn't let me! 

I'll try to get an update out within the next week, but I'm going to be _really_ busy (My _dear_ mother scheduled a doctor's appointment & a dentist appointment in the same week!) So, I promise I'll try, but that's all I _can_ promise. 

Oh, and 5 Things;

1. **I'd like to thank everyone for their support!**

2. If you read my response to Tonda... I'm looking for some more LOTR/HP x-overs. Can anyone recommend a few?

3. Reviews, _please!_

4. I like reviews!

5. Reviews would help! ^_~

REVIEW!

__

REVIEW!

****

REVIEW!

REVIEW!

REVIEW!!!

Thank you!

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	6. Chapter 5: Ata Hogwarts, Part I

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

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There and Back Again

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Chapter 5

Ata Hogwarts - Part A

By Jess S

**__**

Platform 9 3/4, September 1st, 1995

In all honestly, Platform nine and three quarters wasn't really all that different from any other platform at Kings' Cross. Admittedly, the entrance was a bit different, the fact that you couldn't see any of the other platforms might be perceived as odd, and the same could be said for the train that passed through it. But, all in all, it wasn't _too_ unusual, and certainly not the least bit in the Wizarding World.

"Where _is_ he, Ron?" Hermione demanded for what the redhead thought must've been at least the twentieth time.

Which was primarily why the youngest of the Weasley brother's rolled his eyes, "He'll be here, Hermione. He promised... and besides, Harry wouldn't miss the train back to school for anything. He can't be getting along with his relatives _that_ much!"

The bushy-haired brunette sighed. "You're right, but..."

"Morning Hermione, morning Ron!"

They both turned quickly around to find their missing friend. Right next to him were three eleven-year-old girl's in Muggle clothing. One had red hair, and hazel eyes, while the other two were obviously twins, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. 

"Sorry I'm late," Harry apologized, before turning to the eleven year olds and leaning down slightly, "Now you just need to find a compartment on the train," he told them, smiling warmly. "Don't worry," he gestured to the clock on the wall a short distance from them, which read twenty of eleven. "The train doesn't leave until eleven, so you'll have plenty of time. And I'd wager there are more then a few empty compartments left."

All three girls blushed slightly, as they said "Thank you!" before hurriedly boarding the train. They glanced back once, but hurried on when Harry smiled at them in response.

Once they were aboard the train, the raven-haired wizard turned his attention back to his friends. "Again, I'm sorry about that. They couldn't find that platform, and I didn't have the heart to let them finish asking the guard."

Both of his friends smiled. 

"That's all right, Harry," Hermione nodded to him. 

"You're not _that_ late, anyhow." Ron added, ignoring his other friend's glare.

Harry nodded, "Well, we should probably head up the Prefect's carriage."

"Right." Both nodded, and the 'three' of them quickly made their way to the head of the train.

And, once again, while boarding the train, Harry held the door for both his friends, and then held it long enough to allow another person passage before entering himself.

~ * ~

"Shouldn't many of you be at the school, waiting for the Express to arrive?" Madam Vance inquired politely, pulling her shawl a little tighter around her fragile frame.

"We shall leave soon, Emmeline," Dumbledore replied, offering a smile with his nod of recognition. "However, the Express isn't due to arrive for well over an hour, so we have plenty of time.... And I would like to use that time to our best advantage." He looked around a moment, before asking: "Does anyone have anything to report?"

Silence met the inquiry. 

The fight against Lord Voldemort and his Dark forces was rather disheartening, even - no - _especially_ now. One might think it wrong to want war, but many had no doubt that open war _had_ to be better then what they currently had...

Far too close to _nothing_ for anyone's liking...Even with a spy in the Dark Lord's inner circle, they didn't know anything that was really worth knowing. They didn't know what he was doing or planning, so in essence, they didn't know what to do or plan.

That was what made their current situation so disheartening.

With nothing to do, there was nothing to put their minds' to rest. There was nothing to make them feel like they were making a difference.

After several moments silence the Headmaster sighed. "Very well," he shook his head. "Continue to watch and listen. We must wait for Voldemort to make his first move...This meeting is adjourned." As the Order members rose to depart, he turned to Professor McGonagall. "The Express?"

The Transfiguration teacher sighed, but nodded after a moment's thought. "Wilson did all he could...It's still acting somewhat irregular, but the students won't be in any danger."

~ * ~

"All right then," Kevin Entwhistle of Ravenclaw, and this year's Head Boy, began. [I couldn't find either an HB or and HG in bk5. Were they named? Because the two I'll be using aren't even in their seventh year in the cannon. I made the HB 2 years older, and the HG _5_ years older!]

"Settle down everyone," the Head Girl, Laura Madley of Hufflepuff, called. "Why don't we get started, so that we can get this over with?"

Obediently, the quiet chatter in the front double-compartment of the Prefect's carriage died down.

"Thanks, Laura," Entwhistle nodded to his partner, before turning his attention back to the group. "First of all, we'd like to mention all of our new members... There are a bit more then usual, actually." He nodded over towards the Slytherin, "We have Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Parkinson from Slytherin starting this year."

"Mr. Macmillion," Madley continued, "and Miss Abbot, from Hufflepuff."

"Mr. Goldstein and Miss Patil, from Ravenclaw."

"And, we have three new arrivals from Gryffindor," Madley nodded over toward the Gryffindors, continuing before anyone could object, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger."

"Welcome to the team, all of you!" Entwhistle continued, smiling. His smile faded when a voice came from the Slytherins.

"Why are the Gryffindork's allowed to have _three_ Prefects?" Parkinson demanded. "They're only supposed to be two a year!"

Madley sighed, "It is unusual, but it has been done before." The Head Girl replied. "The Headmaster and the Headmistress simply didn't wish to choose Mr. Potter over Mr. Weasley, or vice-versa. Plus, the three of them have proven in the past that they work very well together, and will undoubtedly be a great asset to this team." She continued with a much sterner tone, "Now, I believe we should continue with a few rules we all follow..."

Entwhistle continued, "Being a Prefect is a duty, not a privilege. It does not give you the right to break rules or pick on other students any more then non-Prefects do. Quite the contrary, you are supposed to prevent such acts. If you see another Prefect doing it, you are bound by your duty as a school Prefect, to report it."

"Should you abuse your Prefectoral powers," the Head Girl continued, "the minimum penalty is loss of your badge and all Prefectoral privileges, should your infraction be severe enough, as a Prefect, you may be suspended, or even expelled."

Both of the Heads looked around the carriage.

"Any questions?" Entwhistle inquired. He smiled slightly, when he was met by silence. "Very well, then... New Prefects, all you need to do is keep an eye out for trouble this ride. The older Prefects will handle the patrols." He waved to the door, "All of the compartments in this carriage are reserved for Prefects, so you shouldn't have any trouble finding a vacancy."

Slowly, the crowd dispersed... 

Harry was the only one out of the Gryffindor trio that saw Slytherin Prefects followed them out. Therefore he expected a confrontation of some short. Of course, Ron and Hermione didn't seem all that surprised to find the Slytherins had followed them to one of the first compartments outside the door.

"Bit lost aren't you, Weasel?" the blonde sneered, his eyes on Ron. "You'd never make it here with what _your_ father brings home each week."

Hermione, realistically didn't need to grab Ron's arm to stop him from rising to the Slytherin's bait, the look Harry'd given him had already accomplished that.

"It never ceases to amaze me," Harry began before Ron could open his mouth, shaking his head. "How minute your imagination continually proves to be, Malfoy," he continued, after nodding to the group of Slytherin's behind the Malfoy- heir (Pansy, Crabbe & Goyle). "Although it really shouldn't be all that surprising considering your house...Your founder, Salazar, would certainly disprove, to find no cunning in what remains of _his_ house."

Malfoy's pale eyes snapped over to Harry, smoldering with suppressed rage. "You are hardly fit to judge any member of Slytherin house, _Potter_..." He was interrupted by a gasp from right behind him, and turned quickly toward the offender. "What's wrong with you, Parkinson?"

His partner was staring at the Boy-Who-Lived, her pale blue eyes wide.

Harry chuckled slightly, "I suppose your housemate is a little more observant then you are, Malfoy..." He too, was interrupted, not by any of his year mates, but by the train itself... Which had, quite suddenly, given a giant lurch, like one might expect to encounter during an earthquake. It came to a shuddering stop, and the lights flickered repeatedly before it started moving again, as though nothing had happened.

"Wh-what was th-that?" Pansy Parkinson stuttered after a moment's silence, which had followed many startled shrieks, as she accepted her housemates assistance in rising from the floor.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied quietly, while making his way to the door, where he stepped over Crabbe and Goyle. "We'd better check in at the front."

For once, none of the Slytherin's protested following the Gryffindor's lead. 

~ * ~

"So... the Express is on its way, then?"

"Yes," Lucius Malfoy nodded. "Would you like us to attack it, my lord?"

"No." The Dark Lord shook his head, "It is still too soon, to announce my reawaken...We will wait until the Ministry and the Wizarding World have separated themselves even more from their Muggle-loving protector...And then we will crush them...But, first," he shook his head. "I do believe there is a record of the prophecy concerning young Potter and myself, at the Ministry...is there not?"

"There is, my lord," Malfoy nodded. "In the Department of Mysteries."

"Ah... yes," Lord Voldemort frowned slightly, "that would be a problem..." After a moment's silence, he turned his crimson eyes back to the blonde. "You will research this, attempt to retrieve it, and bring it to me...You may use any resources you wish..."

"As you command," the Death Eater bowed, "my lord."

~ * ~

"What's happening?!"

"We don't know!" the Head Girl shouted over the panic that was bouncing around the Prefect's compartment. "Everyone calm down!..._Please!_" She pleaded as she, too, began to panic.

Neither she, nor Entwhistle had ever expected to have to deal with any dangerous situations quite so soon...the school year hadn't even really begun yet! And as such, they were more then a little lost themselves...

This, certainly wasn't a good thing...and it was quite lucky that some people could keep their heads in a crisis, or the Heads would've had an all out prefect mob on their hands! Not that that was all to far off as it was...

The Wizarding teenagers were all lost and confused, not having the slightest idea of what to do, while knowing everyone else aboard the train would expect them to know, and the fact that their appointed leaders were just as lost didn't help masters...

It was times like these that defined the word 'panic'...

Therefore, it was quite a shock when that panic began to ebb away, calmed by a soothing wave of power...

The silence that ensued was a result of that sudden emotional ease. As it left all of the prefects in shock and awe, quite evident in their wide, staring eyes, as they looked at one another.

A pointed cough from the main entrance/exit to the carriage drew their attention to the five prefects that were standing there. Of course, the sight of these particular five standing together could have also brought about the abrupt silence in its own accord, if it had been witnessed a little earlier...

Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin, were standing right beside their Gryffindor year-mates: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and the third, who was currently offering them a pleasant smile, could only be Harry Potter...as much of a shock as _that_ was...

The handsome, raven-haired Gryffindor Prefect didn't appear the least bit ruffled by the panic that had been rising within the carriage moments earlier, although the same couldn't be said for his companions. His bright green eyes, which many people within the carriage had only noticed just recently, as he wasn't wearing his classes anymore, were set on the two Heads on the other side of the carriage. "Perhaps we should start with a sweep of the train?" he offered, "Calm everybody down?"

After a moment's silence, Entwhistle blinked, then nodded. "Ri-Right," he nodded, straightening his back a little as he began giving orders. "Everyone move out, calmly," he told them, "and check on the other students, try to calm them down and whatnot..."

Quickly, Madley jumped in, "We shouldn't be all that far from Hogsmeade now, so it won't be long. Any questions?"

"Suggestions?" the Head Boy added after a moment's silence, meeting Harry's eyes.

Harry nodded, his quiet reply ringing through the silence. "Perhaps someone should check up from with the conductor?"

Both Heads nodded in agreement.

"Alright," Madley continued, "Potter, you and Malfoy come with us to the front, everyone else, make sure everyone's alright." 

~ * ~

__ ****

Back on Middle Earth - Imladris, 3001 of the Third Age

"It has been too long, my young friend," the Gray Wizard smiled as he watched the young man many knew of as the Ranger, Strider, make his way over to the wizard's table. He knew, of course, who the young man actually was, but it was not his story to tell, nor did he have any reason to betray a dear friend's confidence.

"You wished to see me, Gandalf?" Aragorn inquired quietly as he took the seat across from the table, which was located in a darkened corner of the Prancing Pony's dining area.

Gandalf sighed quietly, "Indeed, I did..." 

There were, truly, few things that could make the old wizard pause...so the fact that he did was more then capable of inciting worry in those who knew him well. Of course, that worry did not show in the Ranger's outward expression, but it was nonetheless present.

"I have just recently come across an unusual find," the wizard began, taking a draft on his pipe, and blowing a ring out, before continuing. "I had been visiting the Shire, for an old friend's birthday, when one of his more peculiar belongings was brought to my attention once again.... For many years now, since his quest with Thorin and Company, Bilbo has been the owner of a rather unusual ring...."

Aragorn frowned, but said nothing as he waited for one of Middle Earth's most powerful wizards to continue.

"Bilbo was rather fond of this ring...A fondness, which one must presume has come from how long it has been in possession, and I don't doubt that, to a point...However, this fondness was a bit...unnatural. The ring once belonged to the creature Gollum. It was Gollum whom Bilbo took the ring from, and it was Gollum who the old hobbit sounded like when he referred to the ring...It had a rather unnatural hold on him..."

"You think this is Ring of Power." The Heir of Isildur summarized, watching the (much) older being closely.

"The One Ring...Sauron's Ring...yes," Gandalf nodded. "I do indeed..."

Silence hung over the table for some time...And it wasn't until after the bartender had filled both their drinks a second time that either chose to speak.

"What should be done?" Aragorn murmured, taking another long sip of his beer.

Gandalf remained quiet for a moment, before replying. "We must find Gollum. He is the only living being outside of the Baggins' and ourselves that knows of the Ring's whereabouts...We must find him before the enemy does."

Aragorn nodded, "Do you know where it might be?"

"For many centuries, Gollum has kept himself hidden in the deep tunnels of the Misty Mountains..." Gandalf replied. "That was where Bilbo met him, and the Ring...I do not doubt Gollum has left the caves by now, to search for 'his precious', as he and many others have often called it, but the Mountains' may yet be the best place to begin our search."

"Then we will begin there," the Ranger nodded. After a moment's thought, he looked at the wizard again. "And what of the Ring?"

"It should not be left unprotected, even hidden as it is." Gandalf agreed.

"I believe you said it is no longer is Bilbo Baggins' care?"

"Yes," Gandalf nodded, "its hold on him, was far too great...It is now in his young cousin, Frodo Baggins' indirect care.... Perhaps the Rangers' could increase their watch on the Shire?"

The Ranger nodded, "I will see that it is done...And all rangers' will be on the look out for the creature Gollum, even as I shall hunt him myself."

Gandalf nodded his approval, his blue eyes twinkling, "As shall I...."

~ * ~

It was dark outside the Express's windows, as usual, as it began to slow down. It had taken almost the entire trip to calm the student body down. It didn't help that what had happened wasn't overly unusual, according to the conductor, it happened once every decade or so, when they 'drained' the train.

"You know..." Ron shook his head when his two best friends looked at him, "this is the first time I've ever really considered never boarding the Hogwarts Express again..."

The other two Gryffindor Prefects' laughed.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "What about in third year, with the Dementor? You didn't consider it then?"

Ron shook his head again, now grinning, "Are you kidding? That was awesome! This was just..."

"Odd?" Hermione offered, nodding to herself and continuing before he could reply. "Actually, it makes quite a bit of sense....The train is essentially magic. Sure, it was once a train in its own right, but over time its become more magic then metal, and with so much magic floating around it all the time, after a certain amount of time, they would have to drain it."

"But that doesn't explain why it did _that!_" Ron protested, shaking his head again. "They shouldn't have drained the train if they knew it was going to do that! I mean, so what if the Express has a little too much magic in it?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Maybe they _didn't_ know, Ron. But even if they did, too much magic _isn't_ a good thing. Depending on how much excess magic was present, it could become very dangerous. What do you think _Cancri_ is?"

"Man?" {What?} Only Harry heard the inquiry from their Elven companion, for only he knew she was there, and only he was meant to hear it. The other two Gryffindors' were far to caught up in their conversation to notice, which was undoubtedly why she'd risked asking, and why he risked replying.

Ron's eyes were wide with horror, and his skin was a bit too pale. "You...you mean...?"

"_Venefica Cancri_," Harry quietly told the Elf, "Kuruvarle Amandil, enrimba kuru..." {Wizarding Cancer, too much magic...}

"A..." {Oh...} she replied softly, sounding more then a little wearied, which wasn't surprising, as she had been concentrating her magic to help keep the Express stable for the last half-hour.

"Na ilya maar le, melda nin?" {Are you all right?} He inquired gently, concern evident in his tone.

"Uma, maar nin..." {Yes, I'm fine...} she replied just as softly as before, "Toi nailyi en." {We're almost there.}

"_Yes!_" Hermione replied, shaking her head in exasperation. "That's one of the reasons the school has to drain the train every few years. If they didn't, students could become very ill, or even die, just from riding this train! Honestly!" she sighed, "Isn't anyone else _ever_ going to read Hogwarts, a History?"

Ron gulped, but remained silent.

Harry laughed, shaking his head in bemusement as his friends turned to look at him. "As amusing as this conversation is, we really should be getting our stuff. I think we're there...."

A few moments later the train came to a complete stop. The Prefects, as they were supposed to supervise the departure/arrival, were the first ones off the train. They didn't have to worry about the carriages leaving without them, because the first ten carriages in the line were reserved for the Prefects. They just had to make sure everything was running smoothly on the platform, and make sure no one was having any trouble with the train or the carriages. Once they were sure everything was running smoothly, they could head for the carriages, which would then leave for Hogwarts. If they didn't think everyone would be ready for the appropriate time, then they were to notify the Head Boy or the Head Girl, who would then halt the carriage line.

That was one of the reasons the First Years always crossed the lake by boat. Not only was it a spectacular way to start the school year, but it also meant that the Prefects didn't have to worry about them.

All in all, there wasn't any difficulty with the arrival. With the exception of a few confused second-years and one third-year that didn't know she didn't need to unload her trunk. So they quickly moved to the head of the column, to the carriages that were reserved for the Prefects. 

"Ai yana toi Thestrals," {So those are Thestrals,} Violet murmured softly as they made their way to the front.

Harry nodded in agreement as the peculiar, winged-creatures standing between the carriage shafts turned pupil-less, white eyes toward them as they passed. "Maure na..." {Must be...} He replied just as softly. He knew, thanks to Hermione's gift, what these creatures were, and why he could see them now. He had to shake his head as he looked at them, imagining how very different his reaction to them might've been if not for his trip to Middle Earth.

For indeed, it wasn't hard to imagine how differently a fifteen-year-old wizard with scarcely any battle experience and a two-thousand-year-old wizard would react to anything. Compared to some of the battles, monsters, and wonders, he'd seen, these winged, horse-like creatures with heads that very closely resembled a dragon's in nature, were nothing, with perhaps the exception of amusing. With a pleasant smile and a small bow, he held the door open for his friends, gesturing them in before him. 

Both blinked, but after a moment Hermione stepped forward with a smile, accepting the helping hand he'd offered. "Thank you, Harry."

"Yeah, thanks, mate."

"Not a problem," Harry replied softly, before stepping up into the carriage, nodding in the direction of his Elven companion. Invisible or not, it didn't matter, he never had any trouble finding her, and he knew exactly where she was anyhow, from the tracks on the ground. The grace inherent to her people allowed her to step more lightly then all other beings, but even Elves, and Elf-raised, left tracks, however faint.

A moment later, they were off, rattling and swaying up the rode. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds, all three Prefects leaned forward to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were complete darkness. 

Harry smiled when he heard a soft gasp from his Elven friend outside the carriage. He had no doubt that it was Hogwarts Castle, looming ever closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet-black against the dark sky, it's windows blazing fiery bright above them, was the cause of her surprise.

Upon reaching the stone steps that led up to the oak front doors, the carriages jingled to a halt, and Harry got out of the carriage first, opening the door once he'd heard Violet step down. Outside the carriage, all three Prefects looked down toward the forest, for the lit windows that were usually present there. But no sign of life came from within Hagrid's cabin. 

"We should probably get going," Harry suggested to his friends, "we don't want to be late."

"Right," Hermione nodded.

"Yeah...." Ron agreed, sparing the cabin one last look before turning with his friends to join the crowd hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

~ * ~

It wasn't any wonder her beloved loved this school so much...There was just something about it that inspired that love, even in her, an Elven-lady of nearly twenty-two-hundred years of age. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew she was welcome here.

It reminded her very much of her home. The Lady of Lothlórien welcomed all of good intent into her home, and this castle seemed to possess no less power, nor any less wisdom, regardless of the fact that, if Harry's stories were true, it was scarcely more than a thousand years old.

Today was, very clearly, a day of celebration within the castle. She'd followed the Gryffindor Trio up the stone steps into an entrance hall that was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right. If memory served her well, and it usually did, they were now on their way to the Great Hall and the start-of-the-term feast....

She, however, was not headed there. For it was not her place to be. Instead, she turned down the corridor to the left, to make her way to a portrait with a ticklish pair, and the kitchens that laid beyond them, Harry's letter to one of the house elves in hand.

~ * ~

The four House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could just barely see through the high windows. As was relatively custom for special occasions, candles were floating in midair all along the tables. Which cast a golden glow on the silvery ghosts and excited faces of the chattering students. Some were probably talking about their summer, others were simply exchanging greetings with all of their housemates and friends. The more quiet ones were simply watching, noting the new haircuts and robes, as they were accustom to doing. 

Harry wasn't the least bit surprised by the looks that were continually sent his way and the whispers that intensified as he, Hermione and Ron made their way down along the Gryffindor table until they came three available seats, which Neville had apparently been saving for them.

"_Wow!_ He grew over the summer!" was one of the whispers he caught.

"Ya think?" another girl replied. 

"He's cute!" he thought came from the Ravenclaw table.

"Cute?" came the reply from another Ravenclaw, "Don't you mean _gorgeous?_"

After tuning them out a moment later, Harry turned to look at his friends, and saw their worried gazes directed toward the staff table. He turned to scan the table as well, although it wasn't really necessary, as Hagrid's size made him stand out in any crowd.

"He can't have left," Ron murmured, sounding anxious.

"Of course he hasn't," Hermione snapped, before turning anxious eyes back to them. "You don't think he's..._hurt_, or anything, do you?"

"No," Harry replied immediately.

"But where is he, then?" Ron inquired.

Harry thought for a moment, before replying very quietly, so that Neville, seated across from them, Parvati and Lavender, to their right, and the second year to their left, could not hear. "Maybe he's not back yet. You know: from the mission Dumbledore sent him on at the beginning of the summer."

"Yeah....Yeah, that'll be it," Ron nodded, apparently reassured. 

Hermione, however, bit her lip, ad continued to look up and down the staff table as though hoping for a more definite explanation of Hagrid's absence. After a moment she frowned, and pointed to the staff table, "Who's _that?_" she inquired sharply. 

Harry turned back to the staff table, scanning the area she was pointing toward. It was right near the center of the staff table, where Professor Dumbledore sat in his high-backed golden chair, wearing his deep-purple robes scattered with silver stars. The Headmaster was currently listening to the woman in the chair next to him. 

The witch herself was squat in stature, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair held back by a pink band the same shade as the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Her face, from what they could see of it, was rather pallid and toad-like, with a pair of noticeably pouchy eyes. 

"The one in the cardigan?" Ron asked, smirking.

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "I don't recall ever having seen her before."

"She must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I don't know who she is, though."

"I think I've seen her somewhere before..." Ron murmured.

"'Course you have," Neville cut in, "She works for the Minister. She's his Undersecretary."

"She works for Fudge?" Hermione repeated, frowning. "Then what on Earth is she doing hear?"

"Dunno..." Neville replied.

Harry frowned slightly, glancing down at the woman. '_Well, I honestly wouldn't think that even Fudge would sink that low, but maybe my time away gave me a little too much time to forgive his character...Honestly,_' he shook his head, '_A spy in a school...Hopefully that's all she is...._'

Hermione, he noticed, was also scanning the staff table, her eyes narrowed. "No," she muttered, "no, surely not..."

"What...?" Ron began to ask, but stopped short when the doors from the entrance hall opened.

A long line of scared looking first years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool in front of her, on which sat the Sorting Hat. The chatter that had filled the hall moments before was now completely gone, and all eyes were on the first years that were now lining up in front of the staff table. 

'_Now comes the song..._' Harry thought with a smile. It was nice to see that most of what he remembered wasn't far off mark, and a moment later, the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat began to sing. [This Song, obviously, belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.]

__

In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will teach!"

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided,

Four were their such good friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so I tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest."

Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest."

Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name."

Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same."

Those differences caused a little strife

When first they came to light,

For each of the four founders had

A House in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so, 

For instance, Slytherin,

Took only pure-blooded wizards

Of great cunning, just like him.

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,

And taught them all she knew,

Thus the Houses and their founders

Retained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony,

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding our faults and fears.

The Houses that, like pillars four,

Had once held up the school,

Now turned upon each other and,

Divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with dueling and fighting

And the clash of friend and friend

And at last there came the morning

When old Slytherin departed

And thought the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the Houses been united

As they were once meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into Houses

Because that's what I'm here for,

But this year I'll go further,

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry this is wrong,

Though I may fulfill my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, know the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you...

Let the Sorting now begin.

After that the hat became both motionless and soundless, while applause, punctured with muttering and whispers, broke out. All across the Hall, students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about. 

"Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?" Ron commented, his eyebrows raised.

Harry nodded in agreement. The Sorting Hat, from what he remembered, usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts Houses and its own role in sorting them; Harry, himself, could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice before. '_Then again, it does sit in Dumbledore's office all year...So it's bound to have heard some of what's been going on..._'

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" Hermione wondered aloud, sounding slightly anxious.

"Yes, indeed," Nearly Headless Nick replied knowledgeably, leaning across Neville towards her. This caused Neville to wince, as it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you. "The Hat feels honor-bound to give the school warning whenever it feels-" he stopped, placing a see-through-finger up to his lips and nodding towards the staff table.

They turned to see their Head of House giving the still-chattering students a scorching look, which was undoubtedly the cause for the mutterings rather abrupt end.

After casting a last, slightly displeased, measuring look around the Hall, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out, "Abercrombie, Euan."

This brought a terrified-looking boy stumbling forth in his haste. He followed McGonagall's motions, and sat on the stool, trembling slightly, even as the Deputy Headmistress placed the Sorting Hat on his small head. In truth, the only reason the hat stayed on his tiny head was because of his very prominent ears. 

Everyone waited excitedly as the Hat considered, and a moment later the rip near the brim opened again with a shout of, "_GRYFFINDOR!_"

Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindor table, clapped loudly as the small boy staggered over to their table and sat down, looking very much like he wanted to sink into the floor and never be seen again.

That was how the Sorting of 1995 commenced, and so the long line of first years at the front of the Hall was slowly thinned by the Sorting Hat's decisions. Harry was more then a little amused when he heard Ron's stomach rumble loudly, and spared a glance in his direction to see the redhead staring a the golden plate before him longingly. He didn't have long to wait, however, as the last first year, "Zeller, Rose" was sorted into Hufflepuff moments later. With that, Professor McGonagall collected the Hat and stool to remove them from the Hall, as the Headmaster rose to his feet.

Harry had to smile at the sight, to see his 'old' Headmaster standing before them all again. Although technically the Professor couldn't be more then two hundred-years-old, so he was no longer his senior. It was nice to be back, and this was one of the things he'd always been able to remember, their Headmaster rising before them to greet them before the Start of Term feast.

"To our newcomers," Dumbledore began in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and his lips bearing a beaming smile, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Appreciative laughter and applause came as the Headmaster sat down as the Feast appeared before them all. The five long tables were now groaning under joints, pies, dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice.

"_Excellent!_" Ron groaned as he hurriedly reached for the nearest plate of chops to begin piling them on his plate.

Harry shook his head, smiling slightly while accepting the dish of green peas from Lavender, "Thank you..." he nodded his thanks with the same, pleasant smile. "What were you saying before the Sorting, Sir Nicholas?" He asked after a moment's pause.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, also turning slightly toward the ghost. "About the Hat giving warnings?"

"Oh yes," the ghost replied, seeming glad to have a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. "Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, and be strong from within."

Harry nodded in comprehension, "Good advice," he murmured quietly, but wasn't heard, undoubtedly thanks to Ron's full-mouth inquiry.

""Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" the redhead asked, his mouth so full that Harry had to silently acknowledge it was quite an achievement, if a bit disgusting once, for him to make any noise at all. Hermione, on the other hand, looked openly revolted.

"I beg your pardon?" Nearly Headless Nick inquired after a moment's silence.

Ron gave an enormous swallow before asking again, "How can it know the school's in danger if it's a hat?"

"I have no idea," the Gryffindor Ghost replied. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

"And it wants all of the Houses to be friends?" Ron asked, glancing over at the Slytherin table. "Fat chance."

Harry shook his head slightly, in amusement, while continuing with his supper. 

A short time later, when all of the students had finished eating, and the noise level was starting to creep up once again, Dumbledore rose to his feet once more. This, of course, made all talking cease immediately as all of the students turned toward the Headmaster. 

Harry himself just wanted to be on his way so that he could go check up on Violet, which should be relatively easy, if Dobby had followed the instructions in his letter, which he didn't doubt the loyal House Elf had, but nonetheless, he wanted to make sure.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," Dumbledore began, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now too..."

Harry smirked, shaking his head slightly, as he had no doubt Ron and Hermione were doing.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty second time, to remind you that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes. Nor are a number of other things, all of which can be found on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door." After a moment's pause, the Headmaster continued, still smiling. "We have had two changes in staffing this year. And we are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; and we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite, but fairly unenthusiastic applause as the two new teachers stood up. Professor Grubby-Plank sat down at the end of the faint round, while Dumbledore continued.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge.

As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, "_Hem, hem,_" and it became clear that she intended to make a speech.

The Headmaster only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly, and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing more than to listen to her talk. Other members of the staff were not as adept as hiding their surprise, as no new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before.

Many of the older students were smirking, evidently thinking that this woman did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

Harry, however, was not of such a kind opinion. He'd winced the moment her high-pitched, breathy cough had been uttered. '_Nai Vala!_' {By the Valar!} He swore mentally, shaking his head while waiting for the new DADA Professor to speak.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered in high-pitched, little-girlish voice, "for those kind words of welcome." She gave another throat clearing, "_Hem, hem,_" and continued. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy faces looking back at me!"

Harry didn't need to glance around to know no one looked happy. He was quite certain they all looked taken aback at being addresses as though they were five year olds.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Students exchanged looks at this, and some of them were barely concealing grins. 

It took all of Harry's Elven training to keep his expression void of emotion, whether it be the slight amusement he felt at the witch's obvious naivete, or the tremendous dislike he felt at the reason for her presence. 

"I'll be friends with her, as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan!" Parvati whispered to Lavender, and both collapsed into silent giggles.

"_Hem, hem,_" Umbridge continued, this time in a less breathy, more businesslike manner, with obviously over-rehearsed words. "The Ministry of Magic has considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching." She paused here to make a small bow to her fellow staff members.

Harry smirked slightly when none of the Professors bowed back, while he watched Professor McGonagall, whose dark eyebrows had contracted so much that she now looked a great deal like a hawk when she exchanged a significant glance with Professor Sprout.

"_Hem, hem,_" Umbridge went on with her speech, "Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts had brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation....."

All the Elvish training in the world could not keep the raven-haired Gryffindor Prefect from rolling his eyes heavenward. Of course, he'd lasted much longer then many of his schoolmates.

The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking had started breaking up moments before, when students began putting their heads together, whispering and giggling. 

Umbridge, however, did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience, and Harry had the impression a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech. Hermione and the teachers seemed to be the only people, aside from himself, who were paying the least bit of attention. He could tell by his friend's expression, though, that while she may be absorbing everything the upstart said, she didn't like a single word. And he couldn't agree more.

"...because some changes will be fore the better, while others will come , in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." She then (finally), sat down.

The Headmaster stood up once again, bringing his hands together, the staff and the students followed his lead, though it was more then noticeable that the students weren't overly enthused, and still found their own conversations more important. Of course, even the teachers could be seen putting their heads together throughout the applause. As the 'applause' died down, so did all other noise, as the student body looked expectantly towards their Headmaster.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," Dumbledore said, bowing slightly to her. "Now - as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," Hermione murmured in a low voice.

Harry nodded in agreement, while Ron turned to stare at her.

"You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" The redhead protested. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy!"

"I said _illuminating_, not _enjoyable_," Hermione replied. "It explained a lot."

"It did?" Ron blinked, then shook his head. "It sounded like a loud of waffle to me."

Harry had to fight to suppress a laugh at that.

"There was some important stuff in that waffle." Hermione told him grimly.

"Was there?" Ron inquired blankly.

"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning whenever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"

"Well, what does it mean?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Coming from someone who works for Fudge?" Harry shook his head, "It means the Ministry's going to be, and probably already is, interfering at Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded in agreement, smiling slightly, while Ron looked at both of them, clearly horrified. Before either could say anything, however, there was a great clattering and banging around them, as the other students rose to depart.

Harry and Hermione both rose to their feet quickly, Ron hurrying to catch up.

"Hey!" the redhead called after them, as they hurried toward the doors, "what's the rush?"

"Ron," Hermione looked back over her shoulder, clearly annoyed. "We're supposed to show the first years where to go!"

"Oh yeah," Ron shook his head, clearly having forgotten. "Hey-hey you lot! Midgets!"

Harry had to suppress another laugh as Hermione spun around to glare at the redhead.

"_Ron!_"

"Well, they are, they're titchy..." [What does 'titchy' mean?]

"I know, but don't call them midgets!"

"First years!" Harry called down to the group of little people that had gathered on the end of Gryffindor table that was closest to the door. He smiled pleasantly when they all turned to look at him, and nodded to the three girls he'd helped at the station, Caroline and Christine Wright, and Amy White, if he remembered correctly. "This way, please." 

With that he led them out of the Great Hall, raising an eyebrow at Ron and Hermione when they caught up with them at the doors.

~ * ~

****

Back on Middle Earth - Eriador, 3007 of the Third Age

It was a cold, late night that saw a cloaked rider riding into one of Eriador's few fortresses. He knew this place well, for he'd been there before. It was where his mother had been born, where she now dwelt, and where she would die. 

Gilraen, Queen of Gondor, had not stayed long in the House of Elrond. Not wanting to overstay her welcome, regardless of the lord's assurances that that was not possible, she had chosen to return to her people not long after her son reached his majority.

And now, after walking Middle Earth for nearly one hundred years, the queen was soon to depart for Mandos, the House of the Dead. It might seem odd to some, for one hundred was truly considered too old, not in the terms of those of the Race of Man, or more particularly, those of royal blood and descent. 

However, a second darkness was fast approaching, and as the queen knew she would be able to face it. As she would later be quoted, in farewell to this world. "Onen i-Estel Edain...ú-chebin estel anim...." {I gave Hope to the Dunedain...I have kept no hope for myself....}

The news of her death would reach him during the next spring...a spring that she never saw...

~ * ~

****

Back on Earth - Hogwarts, September 2nd, 1995

History of Magic was by common consent, the most boring subject ever devised by Wizard-kind. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. He never varied the form of their lessons, but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or while most of them stared, sleepy-eyed, into space. 

Hermione, of course, was generally the only person who could resist Binn's soporific power. Therefore, she was more then a little surprised to find, half-an-hour into the lesson, Harry was still wide-awake, and taking notes no less!

"Harry?" she inquired quietly.

He glanced at her, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you all right?"

Harry blinked, and after a moment's consideration, nodded. "Yeah, just not overly tired, really," he lied. Truth be told, he was trying to become reacquainted with his home world, and studying its history, even a history he already knew, was one way to do that.

Hermione watched him a little while longer, before shrugging and, after glancing at Ron, who was asleep, returned to her notes.

After History of Magic, came Potions, with the Slytherins and their House Head. It was on their way there, after having crossed one of the schools many courtyards while a fine, misty drizzle fell, aided by a cool autumn wind, that they ran into Cho Chang. Cho, Harry remembered, he had been dating Cedric Diggory the 'year' before, when he'd had a crush on her.

"Hello, Harry!" She'd greeted him once she was near enough. That wasn't overly odd. It was odd that she wasn't surround by her usual gang of giggling girlfriends.

"Hi," Harry replied, smiling pleasantly at who he'd come to think of as his childhood crush. Before he could say anything else, however, Ron jumped in.

"Is that a Tornado badge?" the redhead demanded, pointing at the front of the Ravenclaws' robes, which bore a sky-blue badge emblazoned with a double golden **_T_**. "You don't support them, do you?"

"Yeah, I do." Cho replied calmly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?" Ron inquired in a rather accusatory voice, which made Harry and Hermione to trade looks.

"I've supported them since I was six," the Ravenclaw Seeker replied coolly. "Anyway..." she smiled at Harry, before turning on her heel and heading back in the direction she'd come from. "See you, Harry."

The three of them watched her depart, and Harry had to fight back a grin when she was halfway across the courtyard, as Hermione chose then to round on Ron.

"You are **_so _**tactless!"

"_What?_ I only asked her if--"

"Couldn't you see that she wanted to talk to Harry on her own?"

"So? She could've done, I wasn't stopping--"

"What on Earth were you attacking her about her Quidditch team for?"

"Attacking? I wasn't attacking her, I was only--"

"Who _cares_ if she supports the Tornados?"

"Oh, come on, half the people you see wearing the badges only bought them last season--"

"But what does it _matter?_"

"It means they're not real fans, they're just jumping on the bandwagon--"

Harry finally decided to interrupt them when he heard the bell signaling the approaching beginning of the dreaded next class. It wasn't overly surprising, that as they joined the group lining up outside Snape's classroom door, the other two Prefects were _still_ bickering. 

Thankfully, though, they had enough sensed to pause their...debate, when Snape's dungeon door creaked ominously open and the class filed into the classroom. Nonetheless, he wisely chose to position himself between them when they reached their usual table at the back, ignoring the huffy, irritable noises they were now making.

"Settle down," Snape coldly instructed as he shut the door behind him. 

The order was, really, a needless one, as the class had fallen quiet and ceased fidgeting the moment they heard the door close. The Professor's presence alone was enough to ensure that during their first year, and after four years of him, it was more then enough. 

"Before we begin today's lesson," Snape began, staring around at them all after he'd swept over to his desk. "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my... displeasure." 

He finished with a lingering gaze on Neville, which made the nervous boy gulp.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," the Potions Master went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye." Here, his eyes rested on Harry, and his lips curled.

Harry merely gazed back, apparently completely unfazed by his teacher's sneer. This, he saw, caused more then a little confusion in the Potions Master's dark-black eyes.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," the Professor continued softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.... Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and sooth agitation...."

The rest, Harry tuned out, as he could already, thanks to his foster-father, Lord Cereborn's instruction, brew this draught with relative ease. So when Snape called an end to their work, an hour and twenty minutes later, with, "A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion." Harry didn't feel any agitation, as both he and Hermione had accomplished that very feet, and were now turned towards Ron's potion, which was shooting green sparks. 

"Those of you who have managed to complete the assignment, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing." Snape ordered, "Your homework is twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

"I'll meet you up at the Hall in a few minutes," Harry told his friends as they were exiting the dungeons, "I want to go check on something."

"Alright, Harry," Hermione nodded, obviously reigning in the curiosity he could see in her eyes. 

"Yeah," Ron nodded to him, "see you there, mate."

Harry nodded in reply, before turning on his heel and heading down the same corridor they were walking down, but in the opposite direction. A short while later, he'd tickled the pear that granted entrance to the kitchens and was soon surrounded by house elves.

He smiled as he stepped into the high-ceilinged room. Then glanced around at the mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped along the stone walls, some of them over by the gigantic brick fireplace on the other end of the room. Of course, scarcely a moment passes after his arrival that he was surrounded by dozens of the small, wide-eyed house elves that worked there.

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded, looking down at a few of the house elves. "Yes, could I, please, have a picnic lunch for two?"

Several house elves nodded eagerly, before scurrying away to prepare the meal.

"And," he looked towards some of the remaining house elves, "Could one of you, please, tell me where Dobby is?"

They all nodded, before pointing down toward the fireplace. The house elves in front of him cleared a path to let him cross over to the fireplace.

Dobby, Harry was a little surprised to see, looked exactly the same as he remembered him. With his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of joy, and his bat-like ears fluttering in excitement. The clothes he wore were as peculiar as Harry remembered as well, nothing matching, no coordination, and barely anything to truly classify a proper ensemble.

"Hi, Dobby," Harry smiled at the obviously overjoyed house elf.

"Harry Potter, sir!" the house elf quickly launched himself at the wizard, seizing him in a tight hug for a short moment, before stepping back and bowing deeply. "Is there anything Dobby could do to help Harry Potter?" the wide-eyed elf asked, "Dobby wishes he could help Harry Potter, for Harry Potter set Dobby free and Dobby is much, much happier now...."

Harry nodded, still smiling pleasantly at his small friend. "Actually, I just came to ask you if you were able to help the friend I sent here last night."

"Oh, yes! Yes!" Dobby nodded, smiling brightly and bouncing up in down. "Dobby knew the perfect place for the lady to stay!"

"Really?" Harry smiled, obviously relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Dobby. I knew that if anyone could help us, it'd be you." He continued after a moment's pause. "And you're sure no one will be able to find her, and she'll be comfortable there?"

"Oh, yes! Yes!" Dobby nodded again. "Dobby took the lady to a place Dobby heard of from the other house elves when he came to Hogwarts, sir. It is known as the Come and Go Room, sir, or else the Room of Requirement!"

Harry smiled kindly, "And no one will be able to find her, she'll be safe?"

"Yes! Yes!" Dobby nodded again. "The lady will be safe in the Room of Requirement, sir. Because it is a room that a person can only enter when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's need. Dobby has used it, sir, " the elf said, now sounding somewhat guilty, "when Winky has been very drunk. He has hidden her in the Room of Requirement and he has found antidotes to butterbeer there, and a nice house elf-size bed to settle her on while she sleeps it off, sir...And Dobby knows Mr. Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and..."

Suddenly, a memory, from long ago (to his mind) returned to him...

**__**

~ * Flashback * ~

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all of Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," he remembered overhearing Dumbledore tell Karkaroff during the Yule Ball. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of charming chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out got it. Possibly it is only assessable at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

****

~ * End of Flashback * ~

"The Room of Requirement, huh?" Harry thought about it a moment, then asked. "How many people know about it?"

"Very few, sir. Mostly people stumbles across it when they needs it, sir, but often they never finds it again, for they do not know that it is always there waiting to be called into service, sir."

"It sounds _brilliant,_" Harry smiled, nodding his approval as a group of house elves came over to them carry a gigantic picnic basket. "Thank you," he smiled as he relieved them of it. Then he looked back at Dobby, "It sounds perfect, Dobby. Could you show me where it is?"

~ * ~

****

Back on Middle Earth - The Dead Marshes, 3017 of the Third Age

The Dead Marshes was a haunted and desolate place; a graveyard for the many Men and Elves who had died at the Battle of Dagorlad at the end of the Second Age. However, the Marshes were more then just a burial ground for the dead...like many of its kind, it could be a killer in itself. This it had proven in 1944 of the Third Age, when a large portion of the Wainrider army was driven into the Marshes after the Battle of Camp. They did not escape it...

In all actuality, it was rather fitting, a quite nearly unsurpassable, unattractive, and unapproachable border for Mordor's border. For that was where it sat; to the northwest, between the Mountains of Mordor and the wetlands of the Anduin River below the Rauros Falls. 

However, that did not keep Aragorn Elessar from pursueing his quarry into the dreaded Marshes. It had taken many long years, but after the search had begun again in 3009, six years later, the creature was finally found...

Catching it, however, was a whole different matter entirely... A vicious and violent creature, which was used to being hated, feared and hunted, Gollum was not the usual type of being any hunter tracked or captured, but Aragorn was there now, to do just that.

And that was what he did....

After a long and stressful journey, he would later leave the creature in the care of the Elves, but it wasn't their fault, anymore then it was his, when the treacherous creature would escape, to be captured by forced loyal to the Dark Lord...

Which would eventually set the Nazgúl on the Baggins' family at the Shire...

~ * ~

**__**

Back on Earth - Hogwarts, September 2nd, 1995

After lunch that day they'd had their first Defense against the Dark Arts class with Dolores Umbridge. _That_ was...an unusual affair, to say the least....

"Well, good afternoon class!" Umbridge had said once the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled, "good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," the Professor shook her head, frowning. "_That_ won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

Once their reply had satisfied her, she'd smiled as she basically began telling them that they'd never had a proper instructor, and that they were far behind where they should be in their 'O.W.L. year'. 

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please." And she'd rapped the backboard again with her, rather short, wand, and words appeared on the board at once:

**__**

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be used legally.

3. Placing the uses of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Next, she'd asked them to take out their copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard and to turn to "Page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

The chapter, Harry found, was dryer then anything he'd ever come across in his foster-father's library. As he'd already read all of the information in different contexts before, he had no trouble deciding that this was simply the dullest way the information could be presented.

So, instead of reading, he simply kept his eyes on the page, while reminiscing back to lunch, when he'd visited Violet in the Room of Requirement. 

The Room itself was truly a fantastic creation. The lodging it had created for his Elven companions (as that was where Elrohir and Camthalion would be staying when they returned), was like a small Elven palace, which had reminded him very much of Rivendell. 

The balcony they'd eaten lunch out on was undoubtedly his favorite part. Though technically it didn't exist, the balcony indicated that the room was on the side of the Castle overlooking the lake, because that was the view if offered. Violet was quite sure it didn't change the Castle's outward appearance at all, as she'd already sent Dobby around to check, and he'd confirmed that even when she was standing there the entire time, he didn't have an idea where the balcony was. 

It had also served to reassure him. As Elves hated to be trapped indoors, Harry was convinced they were all at least somewhat claustrophobic, even though he knew it was simply because they loved nature so much. The balcony was the solution for that. It was a place Violet could go to feel the open breeze, to watch the sunrise and set, or gaze at the stars. Therefore, she wouldn't feel trapped within the school's walls. That was something he'd truly feared. If she'd felt trapped, her happiness could have been utterly destroyed, which would have been her destruction. 

Thankfully, though, the balcony was there, as were many large, open windows, much like those that were seen in Rivendell. They allowed a pleasant breeze to blow through, all though the castle's magic still kept the room temperature very comfortable.

Dobby and the other house elves had agreed to bring Violet anything she needed, which had honestly surprised Harry. He knew Dobby would be willing to help, but he would've thought that the other house elves would want Dumbledore's permission or something of that nature.

As it turns out, one reason the Wizards of old had decided to call house elves 'elves', was because they were forever talking about them. Even more so then witches and wizards, the tall ones, the High, or _True_ Elves, were beings that the house elf community held in **_very_** high regard, so they were all too happy to serve one...

Harry was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Umbridge speak, "_Using_ defensive spells?" she demanded with one of her little, girly laughs. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during this class?"

"We're not going to use magic?!" Ron demanded loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.---?"

"Weasley," Ron supplied, while thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling quite widely, then turned her back on him. 

Harry shook his head when he saw Hermione, and just about everybody else's hands fly up. This was going to be _long_ class... 

~ * ~

**__**

Earth - Hogwarts, Room of Requirement

Violet smiled slightly, shaking her head as she watched the mer-folk play down along the surface of the lake. Harry had been quite right when he'd said the balcony was undoubtedly her new living quarter's finest feature. 

As an elf, she couldn't stand being indoors, away from the light and the air for prolonged periods of time, which was why she hadn't been overly insistent about wanting to travel with him when he was going to visit the Dwarves. She didn't share the same prejudice toward the Dwarven people that most of her Race did, though that was undoubtedly because of both Harry's liking of them and the Lady's choice to remain neutral in the conflict. Nonetheless, as beautiful as their halls may be, and she knew they were, having passed through Dwarrowdelf for a brief period of time, with Harry, Elrohir, and Camthalion, on their way home from Rivendell, she couldn't imagine ever living in a Dwarven city. True, a mountain wasn't easy to invade, and the natives were quite safe in that regard, but they hardly ever had time to gaze upon the stars, or feel the wind in their hair...

Well, perhaps it was simply that Elves and Dwarves were used to very different things...

Harry's definition of this 'room' was very accurate. It _was_ brilliant.

She truly hadn't expected to be offered such a place to reside in. Of course, she wouldn't have minded staying in the Shrieking Shack, or even in the little Wizarding village she could just barely see from the balcony, and that was truly only by the grace of her Elven eyes.

Nonetheless, this room was _wonderful_. The architecture and the furniture so much like what they'd expect to be found in Rivendell that she had, upon entering it, wondered if she'd stepped into Lord Elrond's domain. What's more, the room had thought of just about _everything_. 

It hadn't just given her one bedroom, there were a total of five...although both she and Harry expected that that was only for symmetry. Now, they didn't have to worry about finding a place for Elrohir and Camthalion to stay when they returned.

There was, of course, also a small kitchen, a dining room, two living rooms, and a fairly well stocked library with an immensely interesting collection. Aside from that, there was a large meeting room, which would be perfect if the Elves of this world wished to meet with them. There was also a large, high-ceilinged room with padded floors and walls, which would serve as the _perfect_ place for them to practice spells.

Although she'd only actually obtained a wand of her own a few short days ago, she had been practicing (with Harry's wand, which, thankfully, didn't mind) for many centuries, under Harry's supervision. Nonetheless, she'd already discovered that casting spells with her _own_ wand was **_much_** easier. 

**__**

End of Chapter 5.

****

Translations:

Ata Hogwarts - Back to Hogwarts

Venefica - poisonous, magical 

Cancri - the disease: cancer

Commeatus - coming to free passage

Aequalis - of equal age

****

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 5! What'd you think so far?

Two things:

1. If you didn't notice, this is labeled; 'Part A'. In all actuality, 'Part B', is already done. If I recieve enough reviews by my birthday, this Sunday, I will update then. 

2. *Sigh* I've decide to follow some advice a friend gave me. I really do appreciate everyone's reviews, which is why, up until this point, I've always been replying to each and everyone of the them, separately. However, I've found that this is very time consuming, and somewhat ridiculous when many of the reply's are, quite simply: 

Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like it! Thank you! ^_^

It gets to be a bit repetitive. Therefore, I've decided that I'm going to only reply, directly that is, to the reviews that are actually about something, asking a question, or going into detail on something, or whatnot. I will recognize the other reviews, but I'm not going to reply to each and every one of them anymore. I apologize if this offends anyone.

****

Review Responses:

OrionTheHunter - Thank you, I'm glad you like so many of my stories.

I just updated Lady Serenity, although I'm not sure when I'll be updating Harry Potter and the Chrestomanci or Midae.   
  
Xirleb70 - *Sigh* I know, V-Star and I are having that problem too...

School = no creative energy L 

I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

LOL, yes, they are. ^_^ .... I'm not entirely sure why some people haven't figured that out yet, but....(really, one person emailed me and asked me to pair Harry with Ginny in the story! And I'm like: *confusion *, "but he's already with V!"

  
Fear Mage - Thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

Umm...*sigh* I suppose the Middle Earth scenes only really make sense if you put them all together. There's basically two stories going on here right now, and, eventually they'll come together, but until they do, some parts may be hard to make sense of.

At the moment, most of the Middle Earth scenes have simply shown the passing of time on Middle Earth, compared to Earth.  
  
A-man - LOL, yes, they're together, don't worry. ^_^

Phoenix Lumen - *sigh* That was an error of judgement on my part, I suppose. The Elrohir that left Middle Earth with his twin brother Camthalion, Harry and Ránëwén, is not one of Elrond's sons, he just has the same name as Elrond's son. 

Thank you, I'm glad you like it. ^_^

Sorry for the wait!  
  
CrazyCruciatedDeathEater - Thank you! ^_^

*Sigh* thank you, I've tried that, but thank you for suggesting it anyway...I'm pretty sure I've seen just about everyone of the HP/LOTR's crossovers on FF.net, because I always come across the same ones. There really haven't been any new ones!

Hmm...Prince of Rivendell, huh? Doesn't ring a bell. Although, you're not the only person whose recommend that one, so I suppose I should give it a try. LOL, don't worry about it! The other person couldn't remember the author's name either! ^_^

Gorthaur? I haven't seen that one before, but if you say so. *whispers*_It sounds better anyway! ^_~_

Khari - Hi! ^_^

LOL, that's all right. You can't be expected to review _every_ chapter. And, if I recall correctly, I updated this pretty frequently for the last few chapters.

Thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

*sigh* I really shouldn't answer that, but yes, he/_they_ will...

LOL, don't worry. A lot of time is passing on Middle Earth, but not that much! 

Well...I'm not sure when 'the whole world' will know, but Ron and Hermione, and a few other people will meet her soon. And yes, he will tell them the truth...or maybe an edited version of it, soon. 

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

If you really want to translate this into Spanish, then you're more than welcome to. I'd love to see it, and post it. ^_^

Serpent of Light - ...LOL ^_^*

Thank you, very much...

You should give it a try. As long as you're willing to put the effort in, it can be pretty fun. Besides _*whispers*we need more of them!_ _There aren't even that many bad ones! _

*Sigh* Sorry, almost there, but not quite...

Sorry for the wait

Jessyka - I'm glad.... 

Umm... I suppose... But you have to keep in mind, they _aren't_ teenagers. 

Hmm... you know? I've never really thought about that before.... It would be interesting. But for all intents and purposes, at least in this story, no, he doesn't.

Mercurialgreen - Thank you, I'm glad you think so....

I must, however, admit to some confusion. Flashbacks? Most of the Middle Earth stuff (in current chapters) is stuff that's actually happening on Middle Earth at that time. I know there are a few flashbacks, but not many...

I hope that doesn't ruin the story for you. And if it does, I sincerely apologize. 

Hoshi-tachi - Thank you, I'm glad you think so.... ^_^

LOL, ok, I'll let you know if I see any... Actually, I think I'll start a list of them, and just post it with each chapter.... That was people know what I already know, and whatnot.

I am terribly sorry for the long wait. I'm afraid school and all that drained the creative energy out of me somewhat.

BF110C4 - Thank you... ^_^

I definitely agree with that, to a point (a very, very high point), as LotR wouldn't be LotR without that continual interaction...which, you're right, does (sadly) seem to escape most fans. Of course, most fan fics are based solely on the movies, which are, at least from what I can tell, primarily character driven. Nonetheless, I think the Elvish that's used in the movie (while it wasn't used enough, IMHO) does still show some of the importance of that interaction.

You are the first reviewer to really mention that, though, so I wish I could talk about it a bit more, however, I'm afraid that would be rambling, so, I'll stop now. Thank you for both reading and reviewing, and I do apologize for the wait. 

****

Star - Thank you.... 

Yeah, I suppose so. But don't worry! This is, still, a LOTR crossover, after all! ^_^ 

Rayvern - *Frowns* ...I didn't think any of the stuff I threw in there was all _that_ far from what happened in the movie...

^_^* Thank you.... Yes, I assume most people probably do. However, I do feel (rather strongly) that it does, as you said, add to the story (however little). But thank you for the suggestion. 

Guardian angel of wolves - LOL ^_^*

Well, I suppose that would be a rather nice occurrence. Of course, I think the wait in between those chapters wasn't that long, so it's not overly surprising. I'm glad you liked them, though. It would've been terrible if you'd come across them and found that you couldn't stand them at all. (Believe me, I've done that before *sigh*, it's not fun.... That was one of the rare times I've had trouble staying to my no flame policy.)  
  
Don't worry, that not all that far off... ^_^  


Thank you! :-D You're the only person whose actually listed a few of them! 

I'll definitely have to check Prince of Rivendell, as you're the second person whose mentioned it. And I haven't heard of the other two either, so I'll have to take a look! Thanks for recommending them! ^_^ 

****

Joe - Thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

LOL, no, I'm not fluent in Elvish. I just know the basic format, rough grammar, several words, and I've also managed to make an English to Elvish dictionary, by way of a lot of research/reading. 

If you want to find a dictionary online, I'd recommend starting with the Gray Company. I know Lord of the Ring's Fanatics Library has been putting one together, but I'm not sure if it's up yet... And, as for learning the language (grammar & format) in general. 1. There are _tons_ of sites that you can go to for free. 2. The movies work to, if you watch them enough. (Although that's only for _very_ rough format and whatnot...)

I hope that helps! ^_^

****

Thanks to:

The Elfin Child

Rachel A. Prongs

Evyominique

CiA1

Malach

Prd2bAmerican18

Silver Sparklze**   
**

Siward

Dracana Kantari

Annon.

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	7. Chapter 6: Ata Hogwarts, Part II

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

****

There and Back Again

Chapter 6

Ata Hogwarts - Part B

By Jess S

"I can't _believe_ this!"

Harry looked up from his breakfast to see Hermione glaring at the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, Ron seemed to be reading an article over her shoulder. "What is it?" he asked curiously, as he began adding strawberry jam to his already buttered toast.

After a moment, Hermione turned the paper around for him, and pointed at a heading. Which read:

****

Ministry Seeks Educational Reform

Dolores Umbridge Appointed First-Ever "High Inquisitor"

'_That doesn't sound good..._' Harry looked up at them, raising an eyebrow. "High Inquisitor?" 

Hermione nodded, before beginning to read the article aloud, while Ron sat himself down and began helping himself to breakfast.

__

In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time," said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. "He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve."

She stopped, to spare a glance at Ron, who'd emitted some type of growl at his older brother's name, before continuing.

__

This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person.

"That's how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts," said Weasley last night. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she's been an immediate success---

"She's been a _what?_" the youngest Weasley brother demanded loudly, dropping his fork in the process as he turned to glare at the paper. 

"Wait," Hermione told him grimly, "there's more."

__

---an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-grounds feedback about what's really happening at Hogwarts."

It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor'.

"This is an exiting new phase in the Minister's plan to get to grips with what some are calling the 'falling standards' at Hogwarts," said Weasley. "The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her new teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted....

Hermione stopped reading, quite obviously frustrated as she looked around the table at all of the Gryffindors, who'd ended up listening in.

"Well," Harry sighed, "now we know how Umbridge managed to become the Defense teacher."

The others nodded.

"Fudge passed this 'Educational Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers!" Hermione was now breathing fast, and her eyes were bright with fury. "I can't believe this! It's _outrageous...._"

The others nodded in agreement.

"Well," Harry sighed, "come on. We don't want to be late if she's inspecting Binn's...."

Once again, only silent nods met the statement as the majority of the Gryffindor table rose to their feet, to head to their first class. As it turned out, though, Umbridge wasn't there to inspect History of Magic, nor was she in the dungeons, to inspect their Potions class as they were handed back their moonstone essays.

Harry wasn't entirely sure _why_ Snape was watching him so closely when he came in, but that was only before he picked up his essay. It was _very_ unusual for Harry Potter to get a good grade of any sort from the Potions Master, let alone an _E_. [I'd like to say thank you to everyone who corrected me on that! Thank you! ^_^] 

It wasn't any wonder the Head of Slytherin was in such a bad mood...

The first thing he did, of course, was hurriedly placing the parchment in his bag, beyond his friends wandering eyes. '_I might want to try to do a little more poorly from now on..._' He thought, '_If I remember correctly, this is the first time I've gotten above an A in **Snape**'s class!_'

~ * ~

**__**

Middle Earth - Mirkwood, June 20th, 3108 3A

It was in the great realm once known as the Green Wood, or Eryn Lasgalen, now known as Mirkwood, for the shadows that haunt it, where Gandalf had taken Gollum, after Aragorn's successful capture. For many years, Thranduil had little difficulty keeping the fiend imprisoned, as many Elven magic's, even those as simple as the spells woven into their ropes, weakened the creature.

Nonetheless, it was a clever thing, and had managed to escape, only to be caught again, more then once. It wasn't until this day that it was not recaptured. For Thranduil's kingdom had fallen under attack, giving the creature the perfect opportunity to escape, which it did. 

They would later learn that the Dark Lord's forces had also attacked a city of Men, Osgiliath of Gondor. Which is primarily why this day, out of all days, is known as the day the War of the Ring has began.

~ * ~

**__**

Back on Earth - Hogsmeade, September 7th, 1995

"But Harry, it's awful crowded in here," Hermione objected for the (according to Ron) seventh time. "And students come here all the time! We'll be overheard!"

Harry shook his head, smiling slightly as he followed his two best (human) friends into a corner of the Three Broomsticks, a large group of students following behind them as they made their was over to the tables in the far corner, which happened to be empty.

When they reached the farthest table, as the others pulled two different ones over to it, he replied to her objection. "_Think_ about it, Hermione. The noise is good, it means we're less likely to be overheard. And yes, students come here all the time. Therefore a gathering _here_ is far less suspicious then a gathering at the Hog's Head..."

"Right!" Cho smiled at him as she sat down, "and besides, _everything_ in the Hog's Head is simply filthy!" 

"Yeah," her friend, another sixth year Ravenclaw-girl with curly strawberry-blonde hair (who didn't appear overly pleased with being here) agreed, "even the mugs they serve the butterbeer in! They don't even clean them!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

After a moment's thought, she sighed, "Well, all right..."

"Well," Harry looked at her, "you wanted everyone to be here, mind telling us why?"

"He doesn't know?" one of the other boy's there sounded incredulous.

Harry picked a boy, who he thought was called Terry Boot, out of the crowded table around them. "Know what?"

"Well," Hermione was blushing slightly now, "umm, you see...the thing is, Harry...remember the Defense thing you mentioned earlier? When we were on our way to Umbridge's class?"

"And you were complaining about the way she teaches?" Harry replied, then nodded. "Yes."

"Well...erm...well, I had this idea - that it might be good if people who really wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us," as Hermione continued, her voice began to become stronger and more confident, "because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts--"

"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, bringing his mug down on the table each time.

This seemed to hearten Hermione somewhat, and she smiled at him before continuing. "Well, I thought it would be good if we took matters into our own hands." She paused, looked sideways at Harry, before continuing at his nod. "And by that, I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory, but the real spells--"

"You want to pass your DADA O.W.L. too though, I bet?" Michael Conner interrupted, watching her closely. 

"Of course I do," Hermione replied immediately, nodding. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because...because..." here, she took a great breath, and then finished, "Because Lord Voldemort is back."

As one might expect, this immediately called forth some rather predictable reactions:

Cho's blonde friend shrieked and accidentally slopped butterbeer all over herself.

Terry Boot gave a, barely noticeable, almost involuntary, twitch.

Padma Patil shuddered while Neville gave an odd yelp, which he managed to turn into a cough at the last moment.

All of them, however, looked, rather eagerly, toward Harry.

"Well...that's the plan anyway," Hermione continued, before looking fully at Harry. "And I was hoping you'd be willing to teach us."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but at the same time he turned his attention inward, paying little mind the various pairs of eyes that were on him. '_It's a good idea.... And even if I hadn't gone to Middle Earth, and wasn't over two thousand years their senior, I'd still probably be the one they'd turn to, if only because of my so called 'experience'..._' he suppressed a sigh, continuing to ignore the now anxious eyes sent his way. The longer he spent the more worried they became. They were, after all, true teenagers, and therefore relatively lacking in patience... '_It would also be easier on Violet, if she knew some of my friends, and some of the other people of my world... Some of them might even want to help with the war. The more, the better, as I'd hate to drag the Elves of this world into without showing any real effort on our side, and it's not like the Order of the Phoenix would really listen to me... Well, they would...eventually, but we might not have enough time to explain it, and even then,_' now, he smirked inwardly. '_Who'd believe a fifteen-year-old? Especially with a story like mine?_' Finally, he returned to the world of the waking, to meet twenty-seven anxious pairs of eyes with a gentle smile, '_And Hermione's right, they need to be ready..._' "All right, I'll do it."

Hermione wasn't the only one who released a sigh of relief at this. A moment later, however, she smiled, looking around the table(s) as she continued, "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to---"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" the rather aggressive demand came from a blonde Hufflepuff off to Harry's right.

"Well," Hermione began, "Dumbledore believes it---"

"You mean, Dumbledore believes _him_," the blonde boy countered, nodding at Harry.

Ron glared at him, and demanded, rather rudely, "Who are _you?_"

"Zacharias Smith," the Hufflepuff replied, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes _him_ say that You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," Hermione intervened, rather snappishly, as this was obviously beginning to irk her, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about---"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry stopped her quietly. 

It was rather obvious, so much so that he was surprised that he hadn't seen it before, why so many people were here. At least some of them, maybe even _most_ of them, had evidently come hoping to hear Harry's story firsthand. 

'_Not that I could really help with that,_' he thought, '_I barely **remember** it!_' He shook his head, before meeting Zacharias's eyes, his own eyes several shades darker than they usually were. "You want to know why I think Voldemort's back?" 

Several of the people present who knew him well (or thought they did) gave a start. They'd never heard him speak this way before, it was almost as though he was a completely different person. His voice seemed to be one that was used to being obeyed, making him seem completely in control of the situation, and therefore, much older than a fifteen-year-old wizard. 

After a moment's pause, the blonde nodded, though he didn't appear nearly as demanding as before.

"I saw him." Harry continued, in the same quiet, measured tone. "But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him then, or believe me now, I don't have the time to waste trying to convince you." He raised a hand to forestall any protest, an action which mystified many of his friends, for, again, it was the action a leader would take, and while Harry had always been leader material, he'd never really wanted that control. "If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone, I can't help you." 'The Boy-Who-Lived' sighed, shaking his head slightly, almost sadly. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? I, personally, feel he's been dragged out as a conversation topic _far_ too many times, and it dishonors his memory. Considering the courage he showed that day, I won't allow that when I can prevent it. Understand?" He raised an eyebrow now, "So, if that's what you're here for, I suggest you clear out."

After several moments, in which no one rose to leave, Hermione continued, her voice rather high-pitched as she began. "So....So... like I was saying... if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to---"

"Is it true," a girl with long, plaited red hair down her back interrupted, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

"Yes," Harry replied calmly, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"I heard some of the teachers talking about it during third year," the girl replied, "and my auntie told me it's _really_ hard to make a corporeal Patronus! Can you make a corporeal Patronus?"

"Yes," the Gryffindor Prefect nodded again, now smiling softly. "It comes out as a stag."

"Blimey, Harry!" Lee jumped in, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," Fred told him, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

Harry smiled slightly, shaking his head, "She's not wrong."

A couple of people laughed. 

"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" Terry Boot demanded. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me, when I was there last year...."

After a moments pause, in which Harry was struggling to remember how he'd killed the basilisk in his second year, he nodded. "Yes, I did."

Justin Flich-Fletchley whistled, while Lavender uttered a soft "wow", and (almost) everyone else (in their group) exchanged awe-struck looks. 

"And in our first year," Neville jumped in, "he saved that Sorcerous Stone---"

"Sorcerer's," Hermione hissed.

"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who," Neville finished. [LOL...]

By now, Hannah Abbott's eyes were about as wide as Galleons.

"And that's not to mention," Cho began, smiling at him, "all the tasks he had to get through in the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year -- getting past dragons, merpeople, acromantulas, and whatnot...."

This called forth a general murmur of impressed agreement around the table. 

Harry sighed, then began speaking. "Look, my past accomplishments are really that, past. And I had a lot of help on it. Yes, bits and pieces of it I did on my own, but--"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of that stuff?" Zacharias demanded.

"Here's an idea," Ron snapped at him, before Harry could reply, "why don't you shut your mouth?" he demanded, glaring at him.

Zacharias flushed, "Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it!"

"That's not what he said," Fred snarled.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" George inquired, pulling a long, and rather lethal-looking, metal instrument from one of the Zonko's bags. [*snickers*, I love these two. ^_^]

"Or any part of your body, really," Fred put in, "we're not really fussy as to where we stick this."

"Yes, well," Hermione interrupted hastily, "moving on... the point is, are we agreed that we all want to take lessons from Harry?"

A general murmur of agreement was her response. Zacharias didn't say anything, choosing instead to fold his arms, though that may have been because he still had his eyes on the instrument in George's hand.

"Right," Hermione nodded, looking relieved by the fact that something had finally been agreed upon. "Well, then, the next question is how often do we do it. I really don't think there's and point in meeting less than once a week--"

"Hang on," Angelina cut in, "we need to make sure it doesn't interfere with our Quidditch practice."

"No," Cho agreed, "nor ours."

"Nor ours," Zacharias Smith put in.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," Hermione replied, sounding a bit impatient. Then again, she'd never been overly fond of the sport. "But, you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters---"

"Well said!" Ernie Macmillion barked, surprising Harry, who'd he'd been expecting to speak a long time before. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.'s coming up!" He looked around, probably looking for objections, but continued when none came. "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells--"

"We think that the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione began, "is because she's got some... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

Luna Lovegood, a girl with straggly, waist-length, dirty-blonde hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes, which gave her a permanently surprised look, seemed to be the only person who wasn't absolutely _stunned_ at this news. For she immediately piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge had got his own private army."

Harry blinked, but before he could say anything Ron demanded, "_What?_"

"No, he hasn't," Hermione snapped.

"Yes, he has," Luna insisted, "he's got an army of heliopaths."

"What are heliopaths?" Neville asked, looking more than a little confused.

"They're spirits of fire," Luna replied. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of--"

"They don't exist, Neville," Hermione interrupted her, rather tartly. Harry only shook his head in amusement, as did many of the others.

"Oh yes they do!" Luna insisted angrily.

"I'm sorry, but where's the _proof_ of that?" Hermione snapped.

"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you---"

"_Hem, hem,_" Ginny interrupted in such a good impression of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm, and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"

"Yes," Hermione replied immediately, "yes, we were, you're right...."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," Lee Jordan suggested.

"As long as---"

"Yes, yes, we know about Quidditch," Hermione cut her off, in a rather tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet."

__

That...was easier said then done. The whole group fell silent for several minutes, thinking.

"What about the Library?" Katie Bell suggested, a little while later.

Harry shook his head, "Somehow, I don't think Madame Pince would take to kindly to that." As the others tried to decipher another location, he sighed, '_The sooner, the better..._' "I know of the perfect place..." he looked at Hermione, "'Mione, out of curiosity, when was the last time you read Hogwarts, a History?"

Hermione blinked, "This last summer, why?"

Ron, and several others present, gaped at her, "Are you _serious?_"

"_Yes_, Ron," she rolled her eyes.

Their raven-haired friend shook his head again. "Did it say anything about the Room of Requirement?"

Hermione frowned, but after several moments of thinking, she shook her head. "No, it didn't...Why? What is it?"

Harry sighed, then shook his head again. "I'll explain that at the first meeting." He looked around at the group. "Tell you what, I'll have one of the house elves deliver a message to everyone who wants to come, giving you directions to the room, and the time of the meeting, some time in the next few days, ok?"

After a moment's consideration, everyone nodded.

"All right, then!" George said, rising.

"Are we done?" Fred asked, looking around.

"Wait!" Hermione was rummaging through her bag for something. A moment later, she placed a piece of parchment and a quill on the table. Then, she hesitated, almost as though she was steeling herself to say something.

Harry smiled. '_Trust Hermione to think of something like this... I wonder if it's a true Wizard's Contract, and if so, what consequences has she tied into it?_'

"I-I," the brunette stopped, and took a deep breath, before continuing. "I think everybody should sign there name here, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agree no to tell Umbridge - or anybody else - what we're up to."

Fred reached for the piece of parchment and cheerfully put down his signature before passing it to his twin. But Harry wasn't surprised to see that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list. Actually, he was a bit surprised that the twins would sign it so readily. After all, what most people here were worried about was the possibility of the list being discovered, thereby resulting in their expulsion. Fred and George Weasley, on the other hand, were far more likely to comprehend the likelihood of what this actually was, and that there were probably consequences to it. '_But,_' he thought, '_then again, there are few people as averse in the face of authority as these two are, and Umbridge becomes more and more of a totalitarian each day..._'

"Er..." Zacharias began slowly, making a rather conspicuous effort to avoid taking the parchment that George was trying to pass to him. "Well... I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

Ernie, however, didn't look anymore pleased with the idea of signing. When Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, he burst out, "I - well, we are _prefects_! And if this list was found... well, I mean to say... you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out..."

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him, careful to keep his voice and expression impartial.

"I - yes," Ernie nodded, "yes, I do believe that, it's just..."

"Ernie," Hermione began testily, "do you really think I'd leave this list lying around?"

"No. No, of course not," Ernie shook his head, looking slightly less anxious. "I - yes, of course I'll sign."

After that, no one raised any objections, although Harry noticed Cho's blonde friend gave her a rather reproachful look before adding her name. 

Once the last person, Smith, had signed, Harry raised a hand as everyone began to rise. "A moment, please," he nodded toward the parchment that was now in Hermione's hand. "May I see that a moment, Mione?" 

The brunette blinked, clearly surprised, but nonetheless, didn't hesitate to hand it over.

Harry then took out his wand, and murmured, "_*celo'ab-rimari'coniveo*_," before tapping the list with his wand and handing it back to Hermione.

"Wha-?"

"It's a concealer," Harry told them, "so only people who have signed the contract, can see anything on it. And you have to know what it is you're signing when you sign, otherwise, you still won't be able to see it."

And thus, it was with a much more relieved air that the group, which would later be known as the foundation for the DA, departed, with said members enlisted:

**__**

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ernie Macmillion

Lavender Brown

Dean Thomas

Neville Longbottom

Parvati Patil

Padma Patil

****

Cho Chang

Marietta Snitch

Luna Lovegood

Katie Bell

Alicia Spinnet

Angelina Johnson

Colin Creevey

Dennis Creevey

Justin Flich-Fletchley

Hannah Abbott

Susan Bones

Anthony Goldstein

Michael Corner

Terry Boot

Ginny Weasley

Lee Jordan

Zacharias Smith

~ * ~

**__**

---- By Order Of ----

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

All student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to reform may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).

No student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor, will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with

Educational Decree Number Twenty-four

Signed:

****

Dolores Jane Umbridge

High Inquisitor

Harry shook his head as he made his way through a corridor on the seventh floor, that woman seemed to become more and more outrageous each day. He was quite certain, that if he was his fifteen-year-old self, she'd probably bother him a great deal more then she bothered him now, when he was technically two-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-nine years old. Although, if she got much worse than the notice she'd placed up this morning, he might not be able to say that...

It didn't matter though. All of them were fools, to not be regarded. The group would both meet together in the Room of Requirement, and all of them would meet Violet, and learn an edited version of his story, tonight...

He stopped when he came to a large tapestry that depicted Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls. Once there, he glanced at the wall opposite a moment, before stepping forward and reaching his hand out to seize the brass handle that suddenly appeared where he was reaching. The first time he'd wanted to enter this room, he had to pace back and forth along the wall three times, thinking about getting to the room she was in. She had done the same, in order to create the room(s), only she'd done so, primarily by thinking of Rivendell, which explained the architecture. Now though, the room(s) she was staying in was basically always there, and you really only needed to know that she was there, to enter. 

As he quietly shut the door behind him, he looked over toward the balcony, and wasn't surprised to see the room's present, semi-permanent, inhabitant coming towards him. "Valina anduune, melda nin..." {Good evening...} he murmured, nodding in greeting.

Violet returned both the nod, and the smile, "Mae govannen, melda nin." {Welcome.} she offered a hand to him, which he accepted, and led him over to the balcony, which presently offered a dazzling view of the sun setting over the Forbidden Forest, it's reflection a spectacular show of color on the lake's surface. "Ta luu?" {It is time?}

"Uma," {Yes,} he replied softly, turning to watch her. The beauty and grace her people were blessed with never ceased to amaze him. He smiled as a gentle breeze caressed her pale, flawless skin before spiraling through her dark locks, bringing them slightly aloft, enough so for the dusk's slowly fading light to reveal the unusual, yet natural dark, glittering-purple highlights in her otherwise ebony-black, waist-length hair. 

"Nwalya le na..." {You are worried...} she murmured softly, not questioning, simply acknowledging.

"Uma, na nin." {Yes, I am.} he agreed.

"Mankoi?" {Why?} The Elven lady now inquired, turning to face him, her concerned eyes the same shade as the dusk's darkest edge, the twilight, yet infinitely deeper. "Na e mellon lyaa. Mellon tana ilkenale ten enando. Mankoi maure kaure le en nyaryale isanda?" {They are your friends. Friends you missed for so long. Why should you now fear telling them the truth?}

Harry sighed, "Im ilhanya..." {I do not know...} he shook his head. "Intya nin... ilnyaryale ta ilen naikelea taare nyaryale." {I suppose... Not telling is easier than telling.}

"Illaa ta na," {Of course it is,} Violet replied, sliding around behind him and reaching up slightly to begin massaging his shoulders. "Dan taare uume kare ta vanima..." {But that doesn't make it right...}

"Laa," {No,} he agreed with a sigh, "ta uume." {it doesn't.} After several moments pause he turned his head slightly towards her. "Levoitre na hwinyale o olwen lyaa?" {Have you been practicing with your wand?}

"Illaa..." {Of course...} 

**__**

~ * Flashback * ~

Harry smiled as he stepped onto Diagon Alley. That had to have been the only time he'd ever passed through the Leaky Cauldron without everyone else in there staring at him the entire time. He may not be able to perform magic with his wand over the summer, thanks to the Ministry's detectors, but that didn't prevent them from using Elven magic. And it wouldn't be a problem next summer. He fully intended to remove the spell from his wand over the course of the school year. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about it at all.

Of course, while he hadn't been stared at by the clientele, Violet certainly had been. She hadn't really noticed, but that wasn't overly surprising. As a general rule, Elves were incredibly beautiful, it was just part of their genetic make up. Furthermore, Violet had traveled to some places on Middle Earth with him, and the pub atmosphere usually lent itself to an audience.

"Ai, mammen ta iolwenn-kara?" {So, where is the wand-makers?} Violet asked, turning to smile at him. She wasn't the least bit disconcerted by the fact that her companion didn't really look much like he usually did. He was in disguise, which wasn't overly unusual. Usually, whenever he'd been in disguise during their travels, she had too, but not always.

The disguise was a relatively simple one. Aunt Petunia had managed to hide his scar with some Muggle-make-up, and they'd just used a hair growth potion to make his hair longer. They'd grown it out down to just past his shoulders, and then tied it back. His boots also had small heels, to make him a little taller, and his robes were much more elegant than Harry Potter would usually wear. 

"Ta yallume ityelimalle." {It's at the end of the street.} Harry replied, keeping his voice an octave lower than usual. 

The elf nodded, the only change in her appearance was a small, Elven glamour to disguise her ears. If anyone noticed the magic in that area, they'd probably just assume it was hiding an ear infection, or slightly-overlarge ears, which wasn't unusual in the Wizarding world. 

After a short time, they reached the last, narrow and shabby shop. The letters that golden read **Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 b.c.** were still peeling, and the wand in the window was still gathering dust on the faded purple pillow.

Harry had to smile when they stepped inside to be greeted by the sound of a tinkling bell, as he watched Violet attempt to look everywhere at once. There weren't really many things to look at. The shop was rather tiny, and seemed even more so, thanks to the many tall piles of narrow black boxes, each of which housed its own wand.

Both turned to look as an old man with wide, pale eyes that still reminded Harry of moons came out from the back of the shop. He appeared more then a little startled. Of course, that wasn't overly surprising in retrospect, Harry thought, as he remembered the shock the old man had given him in his first year. He supposed the wand maker liked_ startling people, and/or it was simply a very rare that he failed to do so. But he really couldn't move quietly enough to escape the notice of an Elf and someone who was trained by Elves._

"Good afternoon," Ollivander greeted them sharply as he made his way over to them, stopping when he stood right in front of them. "May I help you?"

"Yes, please," Violet began with a small smile, friendly, as always. "I'd like to buy a wand, please."

Ollivander raised an eyebrow, "A replacement?" he inquired, while pulling a long tape measurer with silver markings out of his pocket. "Surely you're too old to be starting school now?"

"Quite," she agreed, still smiling. "I'm afraid I had some difficulty beginning my magical education, family matters, you see. I won't be attending Hogwarts."

"Ah, hold out your arm, please. That's it. Home schooling?" the wizard inquired, as he measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and then around her head. Both Harry and Violet tensed slightly at the last, praying he would run into her ears, which, thankfully, he did not.

"You could say that," the Elf nodded, watching as he stepped back.

"Every Ollivander wand has a powerful magical substance, Miss--?"

"Lórien," she replied smoothly. They'd already decided not to use her true name, "Jane Lórien."

"Miss Lórien," the wand maker nodded. "We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand.... The exception might be, if you were using the bond of someone you were immensely close to, a twin or perhaps a soul mate, but even then...." He nodded to the tape measure, "That will do."

At that command, the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor.

"Right, then, Miss Lórien. Try this one. Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Just give it a wave."

Violet immediately accepted the wand, but knew it wasn't hers as soon as she grasped it. Nonetheless, she began to wave it, only to have the wand maker snatch it back half-way-through.

"No, no - here, try this one, maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy......No! Here, try this one, holly and unicorn hair, nice and supple." 

She felt something there, but it was still snatched away from her.

And so it continued... for nearly two ours. 

Wands, wands, and more wands! 

The 'tried pile' grew higher and higher with each try... Harry, who'd been expecting a long wait, remembering how long it'd taken to find his own wand, was amazed at the time. He was even more amazed by the wand-maker's reaction. He'd remembered the difficulty of finding a wand had pleased Ollivander the last time he'd seen him. This time, however, it seemed to bother him... 

'Maybe he's never had a customer take this long before... And the fact that she technically isn't from this world might change things..._' and a horrible thought occurred to the wizard. '_What if he doesn't have a wand for her?!_'_

And he had to shake his head, as he watched from the spindly chair near the front, growing slightly more concerned with each tried wand. Nearly twenty-two centuries old or not, the Elf's patience was rather obviously wearing thin. And the unnecessary anxiety and nerves he'd known she'd long been concealing were quickly replacing that patience.   
  
"No, no," Ollivander shook his head as he snatched another wand back, this one twelve inches of mahogany with a phoenix feather at its core, and tossed it back to the ever growing pile of tried wands. "Not to worry, not to worry," he told 'Jane' with a smile, as he walked over to the shelves again, pulling out another long, black box. "There's an Ollivander's wand for everyone, even the trickiest customer…"  
  
Violet smiled softly, somewhat reassured.  
  
"Now, here we have yew, with a phoenix feather core, twelve inches, rather bendy."  
  
The Elf frowned the moment the wand was within her grasp. Again, there was the same, minute warmth, but it still wasn't right.  
  
"No, no," the old wand maker snatched this wand back as well, "not quite… very peculiar…" he made his way over to the assorted wands again, and rummaged through them for a moment, before something seemed to occur to him. He turned around to inquire, "Forgive me for asking, Miss Lórien, I do apologize if the question offends you, but how aware are you of your ancestry?"  
  
Violet blinked, but before she could reply, Harry did so for her. "Completely. Why, pray tell?"  
  
"Do you know if all of your ancestors were human, or Wizarding, in nature? Or were there any of other races?"  
  
"I am not completely human," Violet admitted, watching the wand maker closely. "Does that really matter?"  
  
"It may…" the old man nodded, and after a moment, he walked over to the front of the shop, past both of them, over to the window. Once there, he picked up the faded purple cushion, balancing the wand on top of it, and brought it over to her. "Would you care to try this one, please?"  
  
After a short moment's hesitation, she did so. Suddenly, the air around the shop began to move, swirling around her suddenly irradiant form, glittering white and silver lights dancing on it.  
  
"Ah, yes… very good," Ollivander nodded, smiling as the lights show died down. "Very good, indeed…" he moved over towards the shelves again, pulling a long, dark box out of one of them. "Yew, with two cores;" the wand maker told them, while holding the open box out towards Vivian. It was black like the others, on the outside, but the lining was a pale royal purple shade. "The hair of a unicorn and a phoenix's tail feather, ten inches, long and swishy."

Violet smiled slightly, while setting her newfound wand down in the box, which he immediately, yet very gently, clicked shut. "Thank you."

"Oh, you're quite welcome, my dear." The old wizard smiled, "It's been a long time since we've managed to sell any of the double core wands. Very few wizards have compatible spirits with them... What's more, they're extraordinarily powerful. I trust," he began, now fixing her with his pale stare, "that that power shall not be abused?"

"Of course," Violet agreed, nodding firmly.

"Yes..." Ollivander nodded, "very good, very good," he murmured, while reaching down into his robes to pull out his own wand, a long, bend one, which appeared to be made of oak. "If you like, I can remove the underage-detector from the wand now, so you won't have to bother running it through the Ministry."

"Oh, yes, please."

Not paying much attention to the spell that the other wizard was muttering, as he knew Violet would catch it anyhow, Harry made his way over to the counter as well, pulling a leather pouch out of his robes. "How much will that be, sir?"

"It is an expensive make, I'm afraid," the wand maker told him, "the wand itself is thirteen Galleons, the removal of the age detector is two, seven, if you'd rather not take the test."

Harry nodded, "And, I'm afraid we offered to buy some wands for some relatives. Jane's cousins, they're twin brothers," he told the wand maker. "Could you possibly find wands for them without them here."

"Why, yes," Mr. Ollivander replied, "but I'd need a focus."

Harry pulled two small bags out of his robes and set them on the counter.

The wand maker tapped each with his wand, and they came undone, to reveal two, apparently identical, strands of hair. 

"Will that do?"

Ollivander nodded. "Certainly," he then began muttering to himself, waving his wand over the focuses. 

After a few minutes, the wand maker's forehead was coated in sweat, but, finally, both hairs 

began to glow. And a moment later there was the sound of boxes falling somewhere in the back, before two long, black boxes came rushing towards them. 

The wizard stopped chanting, and the boxes floated over, to settle themselves on the table. He then tapped both boxes with his wand, causing them to open, and reveal the wands within. "Ah, yes. That would make sense. You said these two are twins?"

Both Harry and Violet nodded.

"That would explain the similarity," Ollivander nodded. "Both are thirteen inches of yew, with different phoenix feathers and different dragon heartstrings at their cores... Very daring, and powerful..." he shook his head, then looked up at them again. "These are not students, either?"

"No, sir," Harry confirmed, "they're not."

"Very well," the wizard nodded, then waved his wand over each of them, muttering, "*Commeatus Aequalis*", as he did so.

Harry smiled, "And that will be?" 

After paying a grand total of sixty-two Galleons, and once the bag was restored to its previous location, Harry offered a hand to Violet, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

****

~ * End of Flashback * ~

"Merne le an rakta sii?" {Would you like to practice now?} Harry asked, turning to smile at her.

Violet thought a moment before inquiring, "Il ihosta sinome rato na?" {Won't the others be here soon?}

Harry nodded to the clock, which read twenty-past-seven. "Il kenna kainen o, il'yallume. I omentie uuma esse kenna tolto." {Not until ten of, at least. The meeting doesn't start until eight.}

"A, kena nin..." {Ah, I see...} After another moment to consider, she smiled brightly, "Il'mankoi?" {Why not?}

With that, both of them left the balcony, and crossed the dining room, until they came to the door on the other side. The room is admitted them to was, quite obviously, a training room. They could sense shielding and cushioning wards all around the room, especially along the walls, which were all mirrors. On top of that, the entire floor was padded.

A few, short minutes later saw the pair facing each other in the center of the room. After bowing, they raised their wands before them. 

**__**

End of Chapter 6.

****

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 6! What'd you think? Sorry if any of you were waiting all day. My parents kept me busier than I thought they would. Thanks for reading! ^_^

****

Translations:

Ata Hogwarts - Back to Hogwarts

Venefica - poisonous, magical 

Cancri - the disease: cancer

Celo - to hide , conceal, keep secret

Ab - from, away 

Rimari - to pry into

Coniveo - to close the eyes

Commeatus - coming to free passage

Aequalis - of equal age

****

Response to Reviews:

Gara - Thank you very, very much. ^_^  
  
Xirleb70 - LOL, I never really thought of it that way, but now that I do... Hmm, let's see school = dementor? ... *Nod* Yup, I think I'd have to agree. 

I know, that can be terrible, can't it? I hate writer's block! You really just have to find a way to break it. A great movie, a good book, something. What really kept me writing while I had writer's block was guilt, but I never post those chapters until I've improved them in some manner. 

Anyway, I hope things start to look up for you soon. Bye! ^_^  
  
Aensland - Thank you. ^_^

  
...I don't think I changed that much. I've mostly been following timelines, and by that all the years should fit. I don't remember how they were shown in the book though, I read it a _long_ time ago...   
  
Evyominique - Thank you. Yes, I know, I read (what's been posted) a few days ago, and I have to agree, it's great. ^_^   
  
Darth Kottaram - Glad to hear it. Thank you. ^_^  
  
**Silver Sparklze** - Thanks. ^_^

Hmm... I can't remember all of the places I got the Elvish from online, but I do have a few of them listed:

- LotR Fanatics Library: Languages ()

- Tel'Mithrim - The Grey Company () [It can be a pain to download, but the list is pretty good.]

- Quenya Corpus Wordlist ()

I hope that helps! ^_^

  
  
William Black - Thank you. ^_^

LOL, *shakes head* sorry, I would if I could, but I can't always focus on one story at once. It's a good way for me to develop writer's block. I will try and keep the chapters coming though.  
  
Serpent of Light - LOL, thank you. ^_^

Yes, that probably would be rather amusing. 

That can happen. I know, I looked back and some of the fan fics that I started last year, but never posted, because I couldn't really seem to get them going anywhere... Am I glad for that! They're _terrible!_

Thanks. ^_^ How was this one?  
  
Saruman the White - Thank you. ^_^  
  
Oh, I got more then enough reviews, just not enough Sunday! -_-* *muttering* _Both weekend and birthday over... no fair... Science first thing tomorrow... bad..._

LOL, yes, I suppose it is rather amusing... I don't know. I've read a **_few_** HP/GW fics that make sense and are well written (_dramatic_ emphasis on the few). But I really can't see why so many people are so fanatical about it! Of course, HP/HG is worse. I have seen only two fics that do it well, and they barely ever show it. One of them I only really liked because I loved Harry and Hermione's daughter. 

Well, it depends on how you look at it. But yes, there is a bit of an age gap now... more than a few centuries. 

  
LOL, yes, I'd have to agree on that. ^_^ Thanks for reading.   
  
Hoshi-tachi - Thank you... LOL, thanks. ^_^  
  
*Smirks*, _very_ soon, as this chapter should have hinted...and if it didn't, please tell me, so I can change it... I think it did... It did... right?  
  
-_-* I hated that scene... There may be a variation of it, but no, we won't be suffering through much of that... I'm thinking of giving Cho a little more character, but Harry's off limits.

...not telling. Sorry, that'd take to long to explain, and if I did explain it... I'd of told you the whole story, and therefore it wouldn't be worth reading. You'll have to wait and see, sorry. :-P  
  
Lady Cinnibar - LOL, here ya go. ^_^  
  
Thank you very much. 

You know? You're the only one who's remembered that! Well...besides me... But I can't answer that, although I think there's going to be a bit on them in the next chapter. Not sure though....  
  
Rachel A. Prongs - Thank you. Yes, they can be refreshing after book five... ^_^

Oh, he might get a few, but not nearly as many... He hasn't given Umbridge much of a problem (openly)...yet, but he still doesn't like her. And he won't stay silent forever.  
  
LOL, yes, it is, isn't it? *shakes head* I can't say I'm overly fond of her either. Although she is a rather good character.   
  
Rayvern - No, you may be right. I'm really not that sure. I tried to stick to the timeline pretty closely, but I may have slipped a bit...   
  
No. One of the things a lot of people assosiate with the Elves is a lot of emotional control, that undoubtedly comes from experience, which Harry _does_ have. Therefore, he's obviously going to be quite a bit harder to get to... *smirks* True...  
  
Sorry, can't answer that in detail. I will say that it's probably coming though. I haven't entirely decided, but there's a pretty high chance of it.   
  
Alena - Thank you.

Wait and see! ^_^

Narwen - Hi. ^_^  
  
True, true. Any others you could recommend? I haven't gotten a chance to read 'There and Back Again' by **Down the Rabbit Hole**, yet, but I like to keep asking.   
  
She does, doesn't she? I try to make sure that she doesn't become overly detached, and so far its worked. I just hope it continues to. 

Harry's not quite sure about approaching Dumbledore on the subject. The next chapter is when Hermione, Ron, and a few others find out, but no adults. If you think about it, adults would have a much harder time accepting it then kids would, so it makes sense that he'd go to other students first. Dumbledore would probably be able to follow, but that doesn't work for the story, yet, so Harry may not be going to him for awhile. Not too long though... 

...*sigh*, sorry, I can't answer that. :-P

Rogue1615 - Good, I'm glad. ^_^  
  
LOL, yes, that should be interesting...Don't worry, there not all that far off.

Well, actually, that's before the Elves of the HP world, and rather soon, at that. 

****

Webweaver - I'm glad. ^_^

True, true. Actually, some events will be changing rather soon. ^^

LOL, sorry about that. I've had a bit of a writer's block on all of my stories as of late (thanks to school...) But I think the stories going along pretty well now. 

LOL, thank you for recognizing that. But I like to reply to the reviews that I can actually reply to.... It's just the 'repetitive remarks' that bother me! 

*Sigh* it did, really, all of them did... Sunday just wasn't long enough... -_-  
  
Lunawolf - Thank you. ^_^  
  
To question #1, it varies. Some people are going to be finding out rather soon. Others won't. 

#2... that varies to. I'm not trying to rewrite book 5, but some parts will be closely linked. 

Thank you very much. ^_^

The only places I can remember for the Elvish are: 

- LotR Fanatics Library: Languages ()

- Tel'Mithrim - The Grey Company () [It can be a pain to download, but the list is pretty good.]

- Quenya Corpus Wordlist ()

I hope they help! ^_^

A-man - I'm glad... 

LOL, yes, but Ron and Hermione don't know that, and he's been trying to not let it on much. The most he's shown on the matter was in Chapter 3, but we should see some more of it pretty soon. 

Thank you. ^_^

Greiver666 - Thank you very much. ^_^

*smirks* Harry will be going back to Middle Earth...eventually. Not quite yet though.

As to the rest... Sorry, can't tell. You'll have to wait and see! :-P

****

Thanks to:

Virusgod

Prd2bAmerican18

LonKire

Star Mage1

Entwife

Wytil

Sarah

Lady sakura

ArwenMGranger

Magikal kat

Szelij

I'm going to bed now... Good night! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	8. Chapter 7: Conversations

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

****

There and Back Again

****

Chapter 7: Conversations

By Jess S

**__**

Hogwarts: Room of Requirement

"_Reppuli!_"

Harry jumped backwards a short distance, in order to give himself more reaction time, before waving his own wand and shouting, "_Propulso!_" 

A wave of glittering, white light burst from the end of his wand to intercept the wave of terra cotta energy that Violet had sent at him a scare moment before. 

The collision resulted in a burst of pale orange light, before both waves disappeared. Leaving the air clear once more, though it hummed with power.

"_Consis-_" Violet began, but Harry was faster.

"_Constituere!_" He shouted, flicking his wrist sharply before sending the spell right at her, in the form of a bolt of grayish-light. 

The elf attempted to shake off the effects of the irresolution spell, waving her wand slightly, like he'd taught her, to erase the presence of the spell she'd begun casting, so that it wouldn't interfere with her present spell.

Harry shook his head, smiling slightly, before waving his own wand again and pointing it directly at her once more, murmuring, "_Expelliarmus..._" quickly followed by a waved cushioning charm to break her fall, and a direct summoning charm, to seize her wand. Once he held her wand in his hand, he walked over to her, raising an eyebrow at her as she watched him from her position on the floor.

"Lavnin," {I yield,} Violet ceded, after a moment's silence, smiling slightly. 

Harry returned the smile, while offering a hand to help her up. " Mae dagor le," {You fought well,} he told her, "ta ena tana voitele iolwen o dîn înle anwale minda, ve ta tulka poldore o kuru lîn, ar ve ilaike o kuruen lîn, atta-luume." {it would seem that having a wand directly suited to you really does matter, as it increased your magical ability, as well as the effectiveness of your spells, two-fold.}

"Uma," Violet agreed, still smiling. "Ta na stalenath ana veru o sina olwen..." {It was much easier to fight with this wand...} she nodded her thanks as he returned her wand to her.

"Ná noole." {It makes sense.} Harry nodded, appearing thoughtful. "Ollivander quetta le ilvoro sanga iveru entulesse onaan kuruvar olwenn veðe caro lîn..." {Ollivander _did_ say that you'll never get the same result with another wizard's wand as you will with your own...} He noted as he held the door out into the main room for her.

"Hannon le," Violet nodded, "Anwa..." {True...} but then she stopped, frowning. 

"Man ra ná?" {What is it?} Harry asked.

"Lasta," {Listen,} she replied, nodding toward the door.

Harry frowned, but did as she directed, and after a moment's silence, he too, could hear voices coming towards them, voices that sounded an awful lot like Ron and Hermione. "Dan (ta/yana) uume ta sanda," {But that doesn't make any sense,} he murmured, "mankoi tae na-" {why would they be-} he stopped as his eyes landed on the nearby clock. "Ne i Vala!" 

Violet also turned to the clock, her frown deepening, as she saw that it's hands read seven fifty-one. "Takena menvoite verule ando taare noa man..." {It seems we were practicing longer than we had thought...}

"Ná yeeta," {So it appears,} Harry agreed with a sigh. He then turned regret filled eyes to her. "Im naikele, meles, dan-" {I'm sorry, but-}

"Hanya nin," {I know,} Violet nodded, "Maure nin tana uumea." {I need to be invisible.} she smiled, quickly stepping forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, before stepping away. "Alma mart, melme nin." {Good luck, my love.}

Harry nodded, smiling slightly as she headed for one of the side rooms. He didn't doubt that his new 'students' wouldn't catch her. He knew her far too well to ever think of that... So it was with a sigh that he turned to make his way over to the door, to greet his childhood friends...who were still children.

~ * ~

Elves, being immortal, are known to possess a considerable amount of wisdom, for it comes with experience and the passage of time, as does patience. The last was rather fortunate, for a lesser being, one that does not (possess) such a quality, would have given up long before now...

Rúmil and Camthalion Míriel continued to push onward. Day by day, their search continued, much as it had done throughout the past four-and-a-half weeks. [AN: I changed Elrohir's name (to Rúmil) because of all the confusion it was causing]

In that time, the brothers had seen many things. Some of which they were familiar with, others they knew only through the tales Elerossë (Harry) had offered them, some from his own experience, most from his books. 

Tiny, winged creatures with bright blue coloring matched their friend's description of _ Pixies. Which proved to be just as devious as the wizard had described them.

Angry Centaurs, creatures that were half-horse and half-man, patrolled much of the forest nearby the Wizarding School. The twins had been careful to avoid confronting these creatures when they'd passed through that area of the forest. For the hoofed-sentries' anger seemed to be directed, for the most part, toward the Wizarding world, which Harry, their friend and leader, was a part of.

Poltergeists, ghosts, hags, zombies, ghouls and vampires were among the beings that they found haunting the forest. While werewolves, kappas, grindylows, red caps and manticores roamed continuously in search of prey. 

In spite of all these perils, and the wonders, such as the numerous unicorns they'd had the pleasure of encountering, they had yet to find any traces of their own kindred.

"Tornnin, cennin naan onna amtoi...." {Brother, I see another creature up ahead...} 

Rúmil turned to look in the same direction as his brother, "A?" {Oh?} 

It took him only a moment to spot it himself. It was an extraordinary creature, though somewhat alarming, with the body of a lion of substantial size, with massive clawed paws and long golden tail that ended in a cluster of copper hairs. The creature's head, however, was that of a human. The overall affect was such that it appeared that a lady with the body of a feline, was watching them with pale blue eyes, shaped like almonds, set it slightly tanned skin.

Wary of her great claws, the elves approached her. They knew what she was, Harry had told them all about sphinxes and their riddles. But, at this point, they needed all the help they could get...

"You search for the Havens of this world?" the sphinx murmured, her eyes twinkling mysteriously. 

"Yes," Rúmil nodded, bowing slightly to the creature, while his brother did the same. "Might you help us, lady?"

"My kind are guardians...and this is my secret to guard." The sphinx replied, "Answer my riddle."

"Your riddle?"

She nodded, "Answer on your first guess, I will offer you my aid. Answer wrongly, and I attack. Remain silent, and I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

The elves glanced at each other, before nodding in understanding.

"May we hear your riddle, lady?"

The sphinx smiled mysteriously, "Of course..."

~ * ~

It wasn't until well past the pre-set time that the meeting was ready to begin. It wasn't surprising, really. In retrospect, they should have expected the sheer awe the rooms would induce. The _Room of Requirement_ had modeled the chambers that Violet lived in and they now sat in after both Imladris and the Golden Wood. As the other witches and wizards had never seen an Elven city of any sort before, they were more then a little impressed.   
  
"_What_ **_is_** this place?" Angelina Johnson asked after a short, somewhat uncomfortable pause, as everyone continued to stare around them awe present in their eyes no less than it was in her voice.  


They were seated in Violet's dining room around a gigantic and beautiful table that, to both Harry and Violet, looked as though it had been made of the extraordinary wood that could be found only in Lothlórien.   
  
"This," Harry replied with a small smile, "is the _Room of Requirement_."  
  
"_Room of Requirement_?" Hermione repeated, frowning. After a moment she shook her head, "It wasn't in _Hogwarts, A History_…. I looked through it again, after you mentioned that name..."  
  
Harry offered a small laugh, shaking his head before he replied. "It's only one book, 'Mione, I'd be very surprised if it held even half of Hogwarts' wonders in it." He held her confused gaze for a few short moments, before looking around at the others. "The _Room of Requirement_ has always been here, some of you may have found it before…. It appears whenever needed, and offers whatever the person that seeks it requires."  
  
"Convenient…" Cho Chang offered after a moment's silence, smiling softly.  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived returned the smile, nodding slightly as he continued. "Yes… One of the House Elves told me about it…. Although, now that I think about it; I think I heard Professor Dumbledore talking about it during the Yule Ball, last year."  
  
"I think we've been here before, too," one of the twins offered, turning to his double. "Remember, in third year?"  
  
"Oh yeah!" the other nodded, smiling slightly. Seeing the expectant looks the others were sending their way, he continued. "We were hiding from Filch…. He almost caught us that time when we were out after hours, but we hid in here…" he looked around. "I seem to remember it being quite a bit smaller, though…"  
  
"Yeah," the first twin nodded, "it was a broom closet…. A rather small one, too…."  
  
The others laughed slightly at this, undoubtedly picturing the two of them wedged up in a tiny broom closet, before they once again turned expectant looks to Harry.  
  
"Shall we begin, then?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Begin?" Harry raised an eyebrow slightly, "I should think we're well past the beginning." At her reproachful glare, he smiled slightly. "Alright, alright…We shall begin again, then." After a few moments of thought, he raised an eyebrow at them. "Well, I suppose we should start with questions. Anyone?"  
  
After a few hushed moments, his patience was rewarded with an outburst of repressed inquiry.

"What are we—"  
"How do we—"  
"How do you—"  
  
Harry raised a hand, somewhat unnecessarily, as everyone had basically all ready stopped abruptly in their sentences, blushing slightly in embarrassment. "Ok, then, now I see why teachers usually don't do that," he smiled as everyone began to relax slightly and reddened cheeks slowly faded to their natural skin tone. "Why don't we try that again? We'll just go around the table, to make it easier. Ron, do you have any questions?"  
  
The youngest of the Weasley brothers, obviously not overly pleased with the attention, was a little redder then usual as he replied. "No, not really…I mean, aside from what we're going to be doing, but I figured that you'd probably be answering that anyway…."  
  
"No," Harry smiled slightly, "it's a good place to start…. Although the answer is quite a bit more complex then you might think…" He sighed, leaning back in his chair slightly as he mulled over his answer. After several moments of silence, he finally replied. "Well, for starters, this will be a sort of study group. Umbridge isn't teaching anything worth knowing, so we'll have to work around her…. Secondly," he sighed, looking around the room. "I know that most of you don't believe that Lord Voldemort is back… Like I said before, in the Leaky Cauldron, I'm not going to be wasting my time trying to convince you of something you'd rather join the Ministry in hiding from. But, I would like to also open this to helping the fight against him." He raised a hand to forestall the comments he saw coming, and continued. "You are, by no means required to join in this effort, and may instead simply remain part of the study group. I won't hold it against you if you decided to not join. That's your choice. But it's a choice that you have to make. You can't turn to anyone else to make it for you."  
  
"But we _can't_ do anything!" Everyone turned to look at Marietta Snitch, the other Ravenclaw girl that was sitting besides Cho Chang. "Even if You-Know-Who _is_ back, the Ministry will handle it! _We_ can't do anything, we're just kids!"  
  
Harry smiled raising an eyebrow, "You're right. As long as you think like that, you won't be able to help anything, you will be nothing more then a mere child. But that, as I said, is your choice."  
  
"And you expect us to make this decision without any proof that You-Know-Who really is back?" Zacharias Smith demanded sharply.  
  
"No," Harry replied, meeting the (_much_) younger wizard's eyes. "You have my word, and Professor Dumbledore's. You have Cedric's dead body. And you have everything else that the Ministry's been hiding, if you look for it. Beyond _that_, I can offer nothing more." He stopped suddenly, looking towards the door. 

"Harry?" Hermione asked, as she and many of the others tried to figure out what had so readily grasped his attention. "What is it?"

"Someone else is here," he told her quietly, rising to his feet with a grace that the 'other' teenagers in the room couldn't help but envy. 

A moment later the door that led to the entrance hall (as the others had dubbed it) swung open.

"So now you're starting an official fan club, Potter?" Malfoy's sneer seemed to be crossed very closely with a smirk. "Oh but wait," now it was definitely a smirk. "You can't start clubs without Professor Umbridge's permission! ... Is our dear Inquisitor aware of this little gathering, Potter? Somehow, I doubt it?"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly, as emotionless and calm vocally as he appeared to be physically. Quite a contrast to many of the others, whose reactions ranged from both nervous to frightened, and agitated to furious.

"Well, Scar-face, I heard about your little plans…" the Malfoy began, his patented 'Malfoy smirk' widened slightly as several scared looks were directed towards him. He knew what they were afraid of. He could see to it that they were expelled for this. All he had to do was tell Umbridge... But that wasn't why he was here. He probably wouldn't have bothered coming here if he did plan on going straight to Umbridge. That was just _asking_ for a fight, with rather bad odds. Perhaps Potter actually knew that, which would explain how he'd managed to keep his face expressionless... Then again, Potter had been rather out of character since the beginning of the year, anyway... 

"What are you talking about, _Ferret?_" Weasley snapped, the tips of his ears reddening to display his irritation. 

Seeing as he wasn't going to get a reaction out of the Gryffindor, whom he still considered his rival, he continued. "How dumb do you think I a, _Weasel?_ Even if your housemates don't mind worshipping Potter's bloody scar, you certainly couldn't get anyone from the other houses here for that!" he snapped, bring his a silvery glare down on the redhead.

"I dunno," Ron snorted, "Ferrets and snakes tend to have small brains, don't they?"

Malfoy didn't bother reacting to that, even though it was rather good comeback from a Weasley... But he couldn't _compliment _an enemy, now could he? Instead, he turned his attention backed to the leader of the group. "Look _Scarface_, as much as I may agree with some of Umbridge on some things, her classes are boring as hell, and they aren't going to help me O the O.W.L.s."

It appeared that, again, Potter was the only one affected by this comment. Everyone else was gaping at the Slytherin Prefect in obvious shock.

It wasn't Potter, however, that broke the silence. He just continued to gaze at Malfoy with vivid green eyes while his red-haired friend took over. "Then why do you _suck up_ to her all the time?"

The Slytherin raised an eyebrow aristocratically. "It might do you some good to notice, Weasley, that _sucking up_ is the only real way to stay on her good side. And, in Umbridge's case, you can earn a lot of privileges by doing so…" he told him, speaking slowly, as though to a child. Although, he probably wouldn't wear his arrogant sneer if he were addressing a child, that'd only scare them, and result in a headache for him, no doubt. He losted the 'little child' speak when he turned towards Potter, his sneer fading slightly as he met the other 'boy's' gaze with his own, challenging one. "Wouldn't you wish you had those, Potter?"

"So," Hermione cut in when it appeared Harry didn't intend to speak, still. "You want us to believe that... you want to join us?" she asked Hermione, suspicion evident in her tone. 

"If you must phrase it so mundanely, yes."

"Sod off, _Malfoy!_" Ron half-shouted, his ears now bright red with the famous Weasley temper. "We don't need your help anymore than we want to help you!"

"It doesn't matter what you want, _Weasel_." Malfoy told the redhead, his expression taking on a darker, more dangerous quality. "Quite the contrary, you _need_ me. Unless, of course, you want Umbridge to hear about what the lot of you are up to? I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear of it... After all, she's been telling everyone in my house to keep our eyes and ears open for anything of the sort. Seems she's heard gossip, but nothing she could make much sense of, aside from the fact that a lot of students don't like her class and are thinking of starting a club to learn from instead. That's why she wrote that new rule that was posted this morning, no clubs or anything to the sort, without her approval. Now she can expel you for this."

It was quite fortunate, for the Slytherin anyway, that looks _couldn't_ kill. Otherwise he'd be quite dead. But it only served to amuse him further. He hadn't come here to make friends, after all. He just wanted a proper DADA education... so that his grades this year wouldn't anger his father as previous years' marks had. 

"Perhaps," it seemed Potter had finally chosen to speak. "But then again, we could just ensure that you aren't _capable_ of telling her."

Malfoy blinked, his silver gaze snapping back to Potter instantly, calculating. Was the Golden Boy saying what he thought he was? "What do you mean?" he inquired, his voice emotionless.

"There are many ways to do so, Malfoy." The Boy-Who-Lived replied, his tone even, "The easiest, of course, being Obliviation. You can't tell her what you can't remember."

The blonde wasn't quite sure of what to do then. Harry Potter, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, actually sounded like a Slytherin! And not one of those wanna-be's, a _real_ one.

"What's to keep us from doing _that_, Malfoy?" Potter continued, after several moments of ringing silence.

"Aside from the fact that no one here is capable of _that_?" the blonde returned with a slightly perturbed sneer, his gray gaze now a bit uncertain. "It wouldn't do you much good. Some one else would find out about this eventually."

"So we could just do the same to them."

"Not if they didn't confront you going _before_ to Umbridge," some of his Malfoy pride was obviously returning. "They may not be interested in gaining anything _from_ you."

Harry raised a hand to forestall Ron's coming protests. "And what might that proposition be? Our sufferance for your silence? Do you really think we'd bother? _Especially_ if there _is_ someone here that is capable of Obliviation?" 

"I highly doubt that, Potter. But if you must know, no that is not what I am offering. If I wanted to, I could certainly demand that, as no teenager could possibly cast the Obliviation charm, but that isn't what I'm offering...."

"Well what the bloody hell _is_, then?!" By this time Ron had gone bright red.

"I found out about this, simply by following the rumors and whatnot. There's nothing to say that someone else won't try the same thing. And you lot obviously have no idea of how to ensure that Umbridge _doesn't_ find out..."

"And your point would be?" Harry inquired, appearing mildly curious as he raised an eyebrow in a way that quite nearly mimicked the blonde's early aristocratic brow.

"My point, _Potter_, is that you obviously need someone to keep an eye on Umbridge, as well as the people who are most likely to help her, my housemates."

"Are you volunteering to _spy_ for _us_, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, clearly shocked.

"Again, far more mundane than I should like to phrase it, but true nonetheless." The Malfoy heir nodded, before meeting Harry's eyes once again and raising an eyebrow. "Do we have an agreement, Potter?"

Instead of immediately responding, Harry turned towards Hermione. "May I see the scroll, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked at him for a moment, before nodding and bending down slightly to pull the scroll that all of them had signed in the Leaky Cauldron out of her bag.

Once she'd handed it to him, Harry laid it on the table in front of him and pointed his wand at it. "_Adligare Honos ad Licentae Cado_," he murmured, tapping the scroll as each word fell from his lips. After he'd finished the scroll possessed a golden aura. As the golden light faded, Harry walked around the table to where Malfoy stood, unrolling the scroll for him to see. "I trust you are aware of the implications of a _Wizarding Contract_, Malfoy?"

"Of course," Lucius Malfoy's son nodded, apparently having gotten over the fact that his rival could cast one of the most powerful contract-binding spells in existence.

"Then sign."

"There's no contract, _Potter_, I'd be an idiot to sign without knowing what I'm signing." The Slytherin replied, watching the Gryffindor closely.

"The scroll simply binds you to the oral agreement we're making. You may join us, under two conditions. Firstly, _nothing_ you hear in this room or with regards to this group may be repeated outside of it. And secondly, as you've offered to serve as the group's espionage agent, that is also part of your part in the contract. Do we have an agreement?" Harry asked, offering the Slytherin a quill. 

After a moment, Malfoy accepted it, nodding ever so slightly as he took the scroll from his Gryffindor rival, placing it atop one of his books to sign it.

And now, the 'DA', as it had yet to be named, thirty Hogwarts' students bound to it, **_Draco L. Malfoy_**, being the most recent addition to the group. 

~ * ~

"That _must_ be annoying," Bill Weasley offered after Professor Dumbledore finished informing the Order of the Phoenix of the situation at Hogwarts. "Having someone who's both a spy and an idiot nearby all the time."

Even McGonagall nodded in agreement to that statement, along with the other members of the Hogwarts faculty. She disliked speaking ill of her co-workers, but Dolores Umbridge was an entirely different matter.

"It is indeed," the Headmaster agreed with a weary sigh. After a moment he shook his head before looking around. "And what have the rest of you to report?"

"Nothing at the Ministry, I believe," Kingsley Shacklebolt replied, shaking his head when the other Ministry members, Emmeline Vance, Arthur Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks, nodded in agreement.

A heavy silence hung around the room as the Order's members sat in contemplation. It was indeed a predicament they were in. Not only did they not know what Voldemort was up to, as he hadn't made any move as of yet, they also had the Ministry working against them. Fudge was determined to make their leader look like an idiot and have all of his followers disgraced. Not something you'd expect to be the fate of some of the greatest heroes of the age. 

"What about Harry?" the silence was broken by one of the youngest members of the assembled group, and the only one with bright-pink, spiky hair. 

Several people blinked at that, startled out of their reveries.

"Pardon?" Dumbledore inquired, turning his somewhat dimmed gaze to the young Auror.

"Harry," Tonks replied, looking around at all of them. She threw up her hands when all of them stared at her. "Merlin's beard! Don't tell me none of you have been watching him!" She demanded, looking around at the Hogwarts faculty present.

"And why, pray tell, would we need to pay attention to Potter?" was the Potions Master's silky reply.

Tonks didn't bother trying to focus her glare on him for long, instead shaking her head to turn her attention to the rest of the group. "For Merlin's sake! Just a few weeks ago you lot were going on and on about how _different_ he was! Hasn't anyone thought to watch him in school? To see if he's changed in the way he acts around his friends? In class? Towards schoolwork? _Anything?_"

After several moments' silence, Professor Flitwick nodded. "Mr. Potter's skill in Charm's work increased considerably over the summer..."

"As has his skill in Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall agreed, nodding. "When I asked him about it, he said he'd decided to follow up on Miss Granger's advice and 'study a bit in' his 'spare time'."

"Is he really that much better?" Sirius asked curiously, "I mean, if he had decided to read up a bit on things, he obviously would've improved."

"Yes, but that's just it." McGonagall shook her head, "he's _better_ than that. Almost too good, considering his previous record... And, honestly, it seems like he's holding back..." She then turned her attention to the unusually silent (at least where the son of James Potter was concerned) Hogwarts' Potions Master. "Don't you agree, Severus?"

Professor Snape glared at her, "I have no idea of what you mean."

"Oh yes you do," McGonagall snapped, clearly having wanted to yell at him for some time. "He deserved an _O_ on that assignment and you know it! Just because you don't like him doesn't give you the right to give him an _E_ on an _O_ paper!"

"I hardly think that a Transfigurations Professor is an appropriate judge for Potions work," Snape replied coolly. "And there were errors in that paper."

"Yes, two grammatical errors and one debatable error, which you only found after reading over the paper ten times!"

"So he has improved in Potions as well, Severus?" Dumbledore cut in, clearly more amused by the bickering between the two House Heads than he was concerned about fair grading. After all, Severus may be harsh when it came to grading (especially when it came to Gryffindors), but he was fair...usually. 

"Considerably," the Slytherin Head replied, obviously not pleased by the fact.

The Headmaster shook his head, smiling slightly. "Well then, I suppose Nymphadora--"

"_Tonks!!!_" the pink-haired Auror once again insisted, and was once again ignored.

"--is right and we shall have to keep an eye on Mr. Potter." Dumbledore finished, a slight twinkle having returned to his previously depressed gaze. He then looked around at the School's faculty, "Have you noticed anything else unusual in the student body?" 

It took some time, but finally one of them had an answer.

"I have heard a rather interesting rumor," Professor Flitwick offered. Upon seeing the curious gazes sent his way, he quickly continued. "It seems that the entire student body does not like Ms. Umbridge's class..."

McGonagall snorted, "Of course they don't! I've visited many of the other Wizarding schools around the globe at some point in time, and I have never anything as ridiculous as that _class_ she's running! _No_ practical demonstrations **_or_** practice! None! In Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

Dumbledore sighed, "Yes, I'm afraid we're all aware of that.... Unfortunately there doesn't seem to be anyway to change her mind on the matter."

"Of course not," Mr. Weasley snorted, "She's one of Fudge's most fanatical supporters, and _he_ thinks you might train the students to fight against him!"

Everyone shook there head's at that, having already heard of the 'Dumbledore's Army' problem that Fudge insisted existed.

"Yes, well," Professor Flitwick continued, "I happened to overhear, a short time before the first Hogsmeade weekend, a few weeks ago, that some of them were thinking of getting together to study Defense on their own."

Now, everyone else either groaned or was suppressing the urge to do so.

"That explains that last _Education Degree_ she passed a few weeks ago," McGonagall shook her head, "She must have heard the same rumor."

"I bet you Harry's involved." When everyone turned to look at him, Sirius shrugged, "What? It sounds like something he'd do!"

"Oh I don't doubt it," Snape replied coolly, returning fugitives glare with an equally dark one.

~ * ~

After a few moments of silence, Malfoy, apparently bored (already) looked around. Then, he blinked, and looked around again, this time more slowly. "What the...?" He shook his head, reaching into his robes to pull something that looked like a silver pocket watch out. But it clearly wasn't a pocket watch, as there wasn't a clock on the inside when he opened it. Instead there appeared to be a tiny mirror, which had a two-digit number, written in green-flame, floating just above it. After looking at the number: **_31_**, he looked around again, frowning.

"What _is_ that?" Dennis Creevey inquired. 

"It's an _Ab'specularis_," Hermione replied, looking at it. "It tells you how many people are within a set distance from the own--"

"And it says that there are a total of thirty-one people in this room," the Slytherin cut in, as he looked up again. "And I only count thirty."

"Well," Ron rolled his eyes, "it must be broken then."

Malfoy sneered at him, "It's an Argentaria product, Weasley, first class. They don't break as easily as the peon products you're used to seeing. That's assuming see any at all, of course."

"So you're saying there's someone else nearby?" Hermione inquired, looking around nervously.

"No, I'm saying that there is someone else inside this room that doesn't want to be seen, but has been listening to the entire conversation. And they were here before too, I checked before I came in, and in said _thirty-one_, including myself."

Before anyone could start panicking, Harry waived to a seat that had suddenly appeared on the other side of the table from his own, nodding to it. "Have a seat, Malfoy. Seeing as you wanted to be here so much." He raised a hand to forestall any protests, quickly followed by a challenging eyebrow. "Surely you can stand sitting at the same table as us, if you think you can stand studying with us, you're going to have to."

"Weren't you _listening_, Potter? There's--"

"Someone else here, I know. Please sit down."

"Harry?"

"Yes?" the Boy-Who-Lived replied, turning to raise an eyebrow at Hermione.

"There's someone else here?"

"Well, I suppose now's as good a time as any..." Harry sighed, before turning slightly and holding out a hand towards where he knew his meles {love} was standing, "Man merne le ilya an omenta sii, melda nin?" {Would you like to meet everyone now, beloved?}

"Valinale," {Gladly,} she replied, removing the invisibility cloak while taking his hand. 

~ * ~

Sphinxes were by nature both guardian's and tricksters. Truly cunning creatures that preferred the challenge of using their wit to protect something rather than just there claws. As such, there was always a certain gleam in their eyes when they began one of their riddles. Just as that gleam was present in the eyes of the lady whom Rúmil and Camthalion were now listening to.

"_I am inevitable, though not all know me_

I can be gained, but cannot be lost

I'm invaluable, yet often cursed

What am I?"

**__**

End of Chapter 7.

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Translations:

Reppuli - to drive back, drive away

Propulso - to drive back, ward off

Consistere - to (make him/her) fall

Constituere - to (cause) confusion/hesitation/doubt

Adligare Honos ad Licentae Cado - "Bind (to) Honor until Freedom (of) Death"

Ab'specularis - Counting pane

Argentaria - relating to **silver** or money

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Response to Reviews:

Xirleb70 - That sucks. Have you had any luck getting any of the stories (or the novel) back? I know that its hard, but my mom's done it before.... 

Well, I hope things have gotten a little better. It is the Christmas season, after all.

Darth Kottaram - Thank you...

*Winces* I know, I know. I couldn't find the grading system when I was writing it the first time, but I did go back and change it. Thanks for mentioning it!

Serpent of Light - LOL, yeah, it was a bit of a time filler. But, a necessary one, for some things did need to get done, and, as you said, so they did. *Sigh* I know I could've done better, but sometimes I just have to get a chapter out of the way... This one wouldn't do that. Although, I did like the Harry/Violet scenes in the last chapter... This one was a bit of filler too, sorry. L 

Maxennce - Thank you. I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

LOL, yes, that was one of my aims for this story. I didn't like how immature Harry was in the fifth book. I know that technically, he was just fitting into the role of a real teenage boy...But still... And yes, Umbridge probably wouldn't survive an encounter with any HP fan!   


Vicious Lily - Thank you!!! You have no idea how much I needed that list! Thank you! Thank you! And, once again, THANK YOU!

And I'm glad you like the story. Sorry about the wait.   


Rayvern - *Sigh* Yes, it is. I just couldn't find that when I was _writing_ the chapter!  


Well, yes, it isn't the safest thing to do, but (I figure that) he has to tell _someone_, and it may be easier to get through to the kids then it would be to get through to the adults. Don't worry, he'll be careful on that... And who said he was telling them what happened to him? I mean, he was almost sorted into Slytherin...who's to say he can't bend the truth a bit. Of course, he can tell the people he _really_ trusts, but sometimes a white lie is easier to believe when compared to the truth. 

  
Yllyana - Thank you, I'm glad you like it so far. ^_^

LOL, yes, thank you. You were right, it's O, E, A, P, D, T. It kind of makes sense anyway. Thanks!

Rachel A. Prongs - LOL, I know what you mean. Thanks ^_^

Lunawolf - Thank you. 

Yeah, I know that Dumbledore could (probably) take it, but some of the other adults would undoubtedly have a little bit of trouble with it.... And do you really think that Harry would tell Umbridge _anything_ true, voluntarily? Even the cannon-Harry wasn't _that_ stupid when he was throwing temper tantrums! 

LOL, you're not the first one to suggest that. I honestly haven't decided Sirius's fate quite yet. I'm considering both sides of the predicament. 

Sorry about the wait...

Star Mage1 -You're welcome.... Sorry for making you wait so long on this one.

Remember what Dumbledore said in the first book? About how fast news (and rumors) fly around Hogwarts? Gossip can do many things... And I don't doubt Umbridge would listen to it.

Wytil - LOL, yes, it is. Thanks! ^_^

Lady Cinnibar - LOL, I'm glad. You're welcome. ^_^

...I couldn't find Marietta's full name when I first wrote that list out, that's why I gave her the last name 'Snitch', because it fit her part in the book. I know here last name is actually 'Edgecomb', but I prefer 'Snitch'.... And as to whether she'll fit that name in the story... *smirks* You'll have to wait and see.

You know the LOTR thing about a bunch of people having more than one name? Well, DA (Dumbledore's Army) will probably be one of them, but it will probably have more, too.

Sorry for making you wait so long. L 

Captain Oblivious - LOL, thank you. ^_^

Sure, I'm not an Umbridge fan... *shivers* Now, _that's_ a **_scary_** concept... Umbridge fans... Umbridge groupies... No, no, no, _no!_ . . . Anyway, I'm not any of those things, so I'd love to see the poem. 

Really? Well I honestly don't see what was wrong with 'Elfin Child', but 'Captain Oblivious' is pretty cool too. 

  
That's a definite maybe.... I haven't decided yet, but it's a possibility. 

I'm glad you like this so much. ^_^

And sorry about the wait. L 

Hoshi-tachi - That's good. ^_^

LOL, no, you really couldn't jinx it, I just have to see what fits the story better... 

And no, you're not the only one who didn't notice the Marietta _Snitch_ thing. I made that up, because it fit her character in the book and I couldn't find her actual name (M. Edgecomb) when I was writing the chapter...   


*Smirks* Oh, they'll be back relatively soon. They just have to solve the riddle now! Then they can find the Elven kingdoms of Earth and form Alliances and whatnot...well, maybe... Anyway, they should be back soon.... And you're probably right... Both sets of twins at Hogwarts? RUN FOR COVER!!!  


LOL, I'm honored. Thank you. ^_^

ArwenMGranger - LOL, thank you. ^_^

A lot of work. That's all there is to the translations, really. I've just collected a lot of Elvish vocab. and grammar rules, and I just put them together. It can be a lot of fun. But sometimes it's just what it is, work! (Which is why I can be _very_ touchy about them.... When you put a lot of work into something, you don't like to hear trash about it.)  


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Sarah - Thank you ^_^ ...  
  
1) ...It is still a crossover... 

2) You'll have to wait and see :-P

3) There in completely different dimensions, therefore they don't have to be directly linked time-wise.... They probably will be going back, but I don't want them to go back until a certain time on M.E.. Therefore quite a bit of time has to pass... 

Thank you, and I'm terribly sorry about the wait!!! L 

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Jessyka - Don't worry about it. I'm glad you like the story so much, and I hope you continue to do so. Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

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Thanks to:

Prd2bAmerican18

Rogue1615

Zombie wolf

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Evyominique 

Jack4 

Angelwings6117

Cataclysmic ^_^

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Knot2be

ER 

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Meamz 

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Lady Psyche 

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Gaul1

Szelij

Delphine Pryde

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Tsuki no Hime - Thank you very much! ^_^

I'm glad you like the story so much... *still smiling*  
  
Yes, this is AU after all, so there have to be a few differences! 

...As to the house of Mandos... I'm not quite sure. I thought that Mandos was basically the God of Death (Or Valar, whatever you prefer), so everyone went to his house when they died... But, looking back on it, that probably isn't true. 

LOL, yes, that's one of the things I tend to do a lot. It makes sense reading it aloud, so I don't always catch things like that... Where was it?

Oh, it's no bother. I'm glad you like the story so much to spend this much time on it! 

Thanks! ^_^

And sorry about the wait! L 

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Liedral - 

1) Yes

2) ...For the most part, yes. That's why he always calls her 'my beloved'. 

LOL, don't worry about it. ^_^

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Orome1 - Thank you. ^_^

Lady Serenity, you mean? Oh, it's coming along. V-Star and I are trying to get an update up before Christmas. 

1) Soon

2) Yes, it is.

3) LOL, we'll see. 

Thanks, you to! ^_^

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Shezza - Thank you ^_^

1) ...Wait and see!!! :-P

2) ...Maybe...It's a good idea...

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Nyoko - LOL, thank you. 

Yes, that would be the point of cliffhangers, but I really didn't mean to make you wait this long, sorry. L 

How'd the test go?

Thanks, I'm glad. ^_^

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Arianne - *Winces* I'm sorry!!! I didn't mean to leave you guys hanging here this long! L 

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William Black - LOL, ok, I'll try and make that a little clearer in the future.... The time with Violet he was kneeling, but I think Arwen was just standing on higher ground, and then she knelt down, bringing him with her. 

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Incensio Lady - Thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

Sorry about the wait. L 

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AN: Hey everyone!

Once again, sorry about the wait! I'll try to update (a LOT) sooner for the next one, but that's all I can promise. Sorry...

Anyway, please REVIEW!!! Help Rumil and Camthalion solve the riddle and find the Elves of Earth!

"_I am inevitable, though not all know me_

I can be gained, but cannot be lost

I'm invaluable, yet often cursed

What am I?"

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	9. Chapter 8: Muina

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

**There and Back Again**

**Chapter 8: Muina**

By Jess S

**"_I am inevitable, though not all know me_**

**_I can be gained, but cannot be lost_**

**_I'm invaluable, yet often cursed_**

**_What am I?_"**

Both Elves looked at her.

"That's it?" Camthalion asked. 

His brother nodded in agreement, "Aren't riddles usually longer?"

The sphinx just looked at them, her mysterious eyes baring a faint hint of amusement, and after several moments had passed she deigned them with a reply, "Is that your answer?"

"_No!_" Both twins replied, hurriedly shaking their head.

"So we can't ask questions?" Camthalion sighed, watching her. 

"That is--"

"No, that's not our answer," Camthalion cut in bowing slightly, "With your leave, milady, we will return after we've deciphered the answer." After receiving a gracious, if aloof, nod from the lady-guardian, he waived his brother to follow, and they left, wandering a short distance down the river until they came to a large set of boulders that served as reasonably comfortable seats. "Man noa le?" {What do you think?}

"Nin? Man o le? Ú-voite le noa o anat? Na le ier tana il-mere a beth!" {Me? What about you? Haven't you thought of anything? You're the one that didn't want to ask!} His brother objected.

Camthalion rolled his eyes, "Erya noa le ilna sanda oser lirit, titta tornnin, uume le anta iteera an hauta onoa le iire etermara le." {Just because you're not overly fond of riddles, little brother, does not give you the right to take leave of your senses whenever you encounter them.}

"Im il-voite haunta onao nin!" {I have not taken leave of my senses!} Rúmil objected once again, shaking his head, thereby making his long, fair hair swish back and forth furiously. "Ar Im liale! tornle 'titta'!" {And I'm your twin! Not your 'little' brother!"

"Estanesse na nin." {I was Firstborn.}

"Nean pinilya luume!" {By little time!}

The 'older' twin sighed, rolling his sapphire eyes, "Tereva, tereva!" {All right, all right!} He shook his head, "Eä men erya noota ana ilirit!" {Let's just work on the riddle!}

"Man naná ata?" {What was it again?} 

~ * ~

**_Middle Earth - Osgiliath - Third Age_**

_Boromir smiled for the cheering soldiers down below, who were cheering his name as he reached the top of the tower, where he planted the flag of Gondor in its hard earned place. "This city," he called, turning to face the crowd, "was once the jewel of our kingdom! A place of light and beauty and music... And so it shall be once more!" He raised his sword aloft in triumphant gesture, still holding onto the flag, smiling as the army below him cheered in agreement. "Let the armies of Mordor know this: **Never again** will the land of my people fall into enemy hands!" _

_Once again the crowd, which was made up of almost entirely tired, battle-hardened soldiers, hundreds of them, cheered._

_"The city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed for Gondor!"_

_"For Gondor!" the soldiers echoed. _

_"For Gondor!" Boromir repeated._

_And cheering ensued as another echo resounded around the now retaken city. "For Gondor!"_

_"For **Gondor!**" the eldest son of Gondor's Steward was smiling widely as he looked around, before releasing the flag and climbing down off the roof of the tower onto the actual balcony, before making his way inside and down the stairs._

_He was met at the bottom by his younger brother, Faramir, "Good speech," he approved, smiling as they embraced. "Nice and short." _

_Boromir smiled, "Leaves more time for drinking!"_

_Both brothers laughed, then the eldest turned towards the supply wagons that had just been pulled into the city and walked over to the servants that stood around them._

_"Break out the ale! These men are thirsty!"_

_The servants smiled as they moved to follow his orders, quickly pouring the first two cups and offering them to him. _

_Boromir, in turn, nodded his thanks before making his way back over to his brother, offering him a glass. "Remember today, little brother," he told him, nodding as they brought their cups together in a toast. "Today, life is good."_

_Faramir nodded in agreement, but his good mood did not last long, as he happened to glance back towards the cities main gate._

_"What?" Boromir asked, noticing his brother's frown, before taking another sip of ale._

_His younger brother turned back to him, meeting his eyes with a slightly saddened gaze, "He's here."_

_Boromir then frowned, a frown that only deepened as he turned towards the gate also, and saw his father slowly making his way through the celebrating soldiers. He shook his head, "Oh, **one** moment's peace, can he not give us **that?**"_

_"Where is he?"_

_They heard their father coming closer._

_"Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first-born?"_

_Boromir sighed softly, handing his glass of ale to a servant before forcing a smile and turning back to meet his fathers embrace. "Father!"_

_Faramir watched as his father embraced his older brother affectionately, just barely stopping himself from wincing._

_"Ha ha!" Denethor smiled as he met his first-born son, clapping him on the back. "They say you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly."_

_"They exaggerate," Boromir objected, stepping back and out of his father's embrace to nod towards his younger brother. "The victory belongs to Faramir also."_

_Denethor's expressions cooled considerably as his younger son stepped forward. "But for Faramir, this city would still be standing."_

_Faramir stopped, wincing slightly, while his brother looked down._

_"Were you not entrusted to protect it?" The Steward of Gondor demanded. _

_"I would have done," Faramir offered, "but our numbers were too few..."_

_"Oh, too few," Denethor nodded, a note of sarcasm in his tone. "You let the enemy walk in and take it one a **whim**."_

_The Captain of Gondor winced as his father and commander moved closer to him._

_"Always you cast a poor reflection on me," Denethor shook his head, his gaze only a shade softer than a glare._

_"That is not my intent," Faramir shook his head._

_"You give him no credit, and yet he tries to do your will." Boromir objected harshly, before turning away from them both and making his way inside. _

_Denethor, Steward of Gondor, frowned, turning to follow his eldest-son, "Boromir!" he called after him once they were both inside._

_"He loves you, Father." _

_"Do not trouble yourself with Faramir..." Denethor shook his head. "I know his uses, and they are few."_

_Boromir only barely managed to hide his horror at the statement as he looked down, refusing to meet his father's gaze._

_"**We** have more **urgent** things to speak of," the Steward continued, drawing his eldest's saddened gaze. "Elrond of Rivendell has called a meeting. He will not say why, but I have guessed its purpose.... It is rumored that the weapon of the enemy has been found."_

_Boromir's shock was evident as he shook his head, murmuring the cursed names, "The One Ring," he looked down, "Isildur's Bane..."_

_"It has fallen into the hands of the Elves. Everyone will try to claim it: Men, Dwarves, Wizards." The Steward once again shook his head. "We cannot let that happen. This thing must come to Gondor."_

_Boromir shook his head, "Gondor..."_

_"It's dangerous, I know." Denethor grabbed the younger Man's shoulders. "Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser Men. But **you**," here he shook his son's shoulders, "you are strong. And our need is great... It is **our** blood that is being spilled, **our** people are dying.... Sauron is biding his time. He's massing fresh armies... He **will** return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. **You must** go."_

_Again, Boromir shook his head._

_"Bring me back this mighty gift." The Steward implored._

_"**No**," Boromir shook his head once again, pushing past his father and making his way outside, replying over his shoulder as he did so. "My place is here with my people. Not in Rivendell!"_

_"Would you deny your own father?" Denethor called after him from the archway._

_"If there is need to go to Rivendell..." Faramir stepped forward, from the same place he'd been when they'd left him several minutes before. "Send me in his stead."_

_"**You?**" the Steward laughed harshly, "Oh, I see... A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality..."_

_Faramir looked down, not able to meet his father's icy, gray gaze any longer._

_"I think not. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will **not** fail me...." Denethor finished, turning towards his eldest once again._

_And so it was later that evening that Boromir sat atop a horse by the main gate, looking up at the flag he'd planted just that morning. After several moments he looked down to meet his brother's sad, blue gaze, identical to his own, for both of them had inherited their mother's eyes. "Remember today, little brother."_

_Faramir offered a sad, understanding smile as he nodded._

_Boromir shook his head and sighed before turning his steed toward the gate, turning away from his brother's gaze after several long moments. And it was on that note that his long and arduous journey to the City of the Half-Elven Lord, began._

~ * ~

Shock was evident on every teenage face in the room as they stared at the stunning beauty who had appeared beside the Boy-Who-Lived, and accepted his gracious assistance to the chair that had appeared beside him with a gentle smile. Even in this world where nobility had for quite some time been considered a thing of the past, no one in the room could doubt that this was a lady of high birth. Their first thoughts were, of course, that she had to be a Veela, for how could any other creature be so fair? But she was not fair-haired, as all Veela and part-Veela were certain to always be, as that was one of their genes. 

"Who...What...?" It was Hermione who broke the silence, albeit confusedly, her curiosity overcoming any hesitation she might've had to speak. 

"This is Ránëwén Galathil," Harry began, nodding to her, "or Violet, if you prefer, of the Elves."

"Elves?" Ernie Macmillion blinked, blushing slightly as everyone, including Violet turned to him, "Begging your pardon, lady, but you don't look like a House Elf."

Violet's short laugh echoed musical throughout the room, as she shook her head. "I am no House Elf, Master Macmillion, I am a True Elf, one of the First Born."

"The Eldar Race?" Draco Malfoy inquired, his silver eyes brighter than usual with interest and curiosity. When she nodded, meeting his gaze with her own Violet orbs, he shook his head, "But they died out, centuries ago... There hasn't been any news of them since..." he shook his head again, frowning, "Well, before Merlin's day!"

"They were not 'wiped out'," Harry told him, drawing all eyes to him, as he shook his head. "They simply decided to separate themselves from our world, so that both worlds, Human and Elven alike, could live in peace."

"They didn't want to live in with humans?" Hermione asked, her sharp brain quickly gasping where this was leading.

Harry nodded, "Yes... The Elven Nobles did not believe that the Atan, or Humans, could live in peace with a race so different from itself, one that was it's equal in many things, and superior in others." He shrugged, "It was undoubtedly a wise choice, if you look to our histories for proof."

"Humans have never withstood rivals, well." Hermione murmured, her eyes wide, much like everyone else's.

"But then..." Ron shook his head, clearly confused. "Why are you here now?"

"To aid you." Violet replied simply.

"She is here as a representative of her people, who wish to help us with the second purpose for our meeting here." Harry cut in, before anyone could ask anymore questions. Now was where they were truly straying from pure truth. 

Everything in that single sentence depended on two things, how long it took the twins to find the Elven Havens of this world, and whether or not the Elves of Earth _would_ be willing to aid. Lady Galadriel had felt fairly certain that they would be willing to. After all, they were a part of this world, and Voldemort conquered the Human World, it wouldn't be long before he turned toward the Havens, if only for the treasures he would come to believe they possessed.

"And what purpose is that, Potter?" Malfoy demanded, his silvery eyes going icy.

"Voldemort." Harry replied coolly. He looked around at everyone present as several gasps were heard around the table. "You are by no means required to help in this cause, but it would be rather foolish not to."

"It would be foolish to choose survival over certain death?" Malfoy mocked, sneering, meeting the Boy-Who-Lived's emerald gaze unflinchingly with his own icy, silver eyes.

"No." Harry shook his head, "It would be foolish to hope that not becoming involved would guarantee your survival..." He looked around, meeting all of their eyes, waiting until he'd held each gaze for several moments before continuing. "A war is brewing. There will be casualties, as there are in all wars. There's no avoiding that. But, depending upon the victor, the outcome is two very different worlds.... Should everyone continue to believe for as long as is absolutely possible that their is no way that Voldemort could have returned, should the vast majority of our world choose that path, Voldemort will win, and our world will fall... He will probably annihilate all Muggles, and Muggle-borns. He might then either kill off, or enslave, everyone else... And he wouldn't stop, until he has it all. And by that time, it would be too late for anyone to stop him..."

"Even if that's true," Marietta Snitch cut in, her eyes wide and fearful. "How could we _ever_ stop _that_? We're just kids!"

"And as I said before, Miss Snitch," Harry shook his head again, "as long as you believe that, you will be a child, and you will be looked down upon..." He held her gaze for several moments before looking around again. "Voldemort has no reason to spare anyone in this room." He met the heir of the Malfoy line's gaze unflinchingly as he said this. "He says he stands for _Pureblood_... and yet the only reason he hasn't killed the same number of Purebloods as he has of everyone else is because they are a minority. He doesn't really _care_ about his followers. When they fail him, he punishes them, sometimes he even takes their lives. He tortures them on a regular basis, probably to ensure that none ever think of trying to overthrow him. All his words of glory to those of Pureblood and whatnot are just that; _words_. He still needs his followers. He can't take the world by himself, so he manipulates a semi-powerful minority into following him. He doesn't really _care_ about them, anymore then he believes in what he says. _Everything_ he says, he says for only one reason; it's what his Death Eaters want to hear. It's what keeps them believing that they are right in following him.... Do you really want to become a minion, Malfoy? An expendable soldier for a lie?" As he finished, he looked around, "Do any of you who might turn to him, really want to be that? To fight for him simply because he says he supports something that you benefit from?" Now, he turned back to Malfoy, who's sneer had been replaced by a confused frown, while his eyes bore that same confusion. "Do you?"

"No..."

Harry let the Slytherin's quiet reply echo around the room for several moments before nodding his head, "I think this is a good time for us to depart. It's getting late. You'll receive word of the next meeting through the House Elves again."

"I was wondering about that," Angelina Johnson spoke up. "Isn't it awful risky? Trusty the House Elves with something we don't want anyone else to know about? I mean, I know that there supposed to be unconditionally loyal and all, but that loyalty is probably to the school and the headmaster, more than the students. Isn't there a chance that they might report us?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "Not with Violet here." When everyone glanced at her again, although many of the boys didn't need to, as they'd been staring at her for awhile anyhow, "All House Elves hold an innately deep respect for the Eldar Race. They're the only People that a House Elf would ever in their right mind consider disobeying or betraying their master for...Which will undoubtedly be very useful to us.... Good night, my friends."

~ * ~

Dolores Umbridge didn't hesitate in walking past the desk that had, a few weeks prior been her own, up to and through the double doors. The Minister was, after all, expecting her. 

"Ah! Professor Umbridge! So glad to see you, my dear!" Cornelius Fudge greeted her from his white marble desk, rising to his feet and coming around it to greet her properly, a welcoming smile lighting his face.

The Minister was slightly out of shape, but he was nonetheless an admirable man. He had, after all, withstood the badgering the media and all of Dumbledore's supporters for quite some time. 

"Good morning, Minister," she returned the smile, clasping hands with him before making her way over to the seats before his desk, watching as he made his way back to the lovely, black-leather clad chair behind it. 

The office they now sat in could leave no doubt in her mind that this was a man of power and prestige, someone who deserved the world's respect. The plush white rug that covered the floor, the intricate wallpaper, large and comfortable furniture, and the flashy knickknack's that adorned almost every part of the room assured that. The people obviously loved him, for none could ever dream to objecting to his living in style such as this. 

"So," the Minister began after a moment's silence, "Anything of interest up at Hogwarts?"

"Some," Umbridge nodded, "but I really haven't been able to find anything beyond rumors! It is immensely irritating."

"Indeed... and Potter hasn't done anything?"

"No, he appears to be focusing on his studies. He hasn't given me any trouble in class...though he hasn't shown any interest in it, either."

"Then why the Decree you sent me a few days ago?" Fudge asked, obviously confused.

Umbridge sighed, "I'd heard rumors that a number of students didn't like my class, and thinking of starting a club to teach themselves Defense in."

"Ah," Fudge nodded, "we can't have that...They would probably be the ones Dumbledore's making his army with... And no doubt Potter's among them..."

"That's what I thought! But I can't find any proof!" Umbridge complained. "If I can just catch them in the act, we could have the whole lot of them expelled, and their wands broken!"

"An excellent goal, to be sure." The Minister approved, "Let us hope it comes to pass... Would you care for some tea?"

~ * ~

Alright... Now Hermione was certain. Even without the sudden growth spurt, newfound maturity and academic excellence, she would have been sure that something had happened to Harry Potter over the summer, something that had affected him... changed him...

After all, this was the _second_ time she'd caught him paying rapt attention in _History of Magic_, a class that even she found dull at times. 

So this was the second time she'd sent a whispered inquiry towards him in the middle of class, "Harry?" She continued when he raised an eyebrow at her, asking the same question as last time. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded, offering a soft, reassuring smile. He held up a finger, taking out a spare piece of parchment, and began writing on it. After a moment, he handed it to her.

_I'm fine, Mione, really_

_But if I'm going to start teaching other people things, I should probably pay more attention in my own classes, right?_

Once she'd finished reading it, the other Gryffindor Prefect offered a nod and an encouraging smile. Then both of them turned back to their notes. But Hermione Granger wasn't born yesterday, and while she hated the feeling, she couldn't help but suspect that Harry was lying to her...

~ * ~

"_I am inevitable, though not all know me_

_I can be gained, but cannot be lost_

_I'm invaluable, yet often cursed_

_What am I?_"

"Ista?" {Knowledge?} Rumil offered another possibility, one of many. Shaking his head in exasperation. "Le uume yello ilya-voitre ta, dan emaure sanga ta." {You can't say everyone has it, but they can gain it.}

"Ar wanwa ta," {And lose it,} Camthalion sighed as they managed to shoot another one down, "Ar elle taie..." {And it's hardly inevitable...}

"Anwa..." {True...} Rumil sighed in agreement, shaking his head once again. His deep blue eyes darker then usual, in concentration. After a moment he glance down towards the sphinx, who was still sitting beside the river a little ways down, watching them. "Hene naser ta, umme hene? Nwalyale man?" {She enjoys this, doesn't she? Tormenting us?}

"A, sandale." {Oh, certainly} his twin nodded, sighing as he finished the braid he'd been working on, and released it. He didn't bother to tie it, as he didn't really care for it. It was just something that he'd hoped would help him relax. "Tana mankoi nosse ohene anta lirit ilo authle." {That's why her kind give riddles instead of fighting.}

Then again, it was somewhat foolish to think that braiding once hair could relieve the tension building up inside... Harry, their prince, leader, and friend was counting on them. As was their cousin... They, a pair of hunters, had been given the relatively simple task of finding their own kind, while the other two members of their party from Ennorath {Middle Earth} took care of everything else, and they couldn't even manage that! All they'd managed to do was fight a comfortable place alongside a river, with a guard who knew what they were looking for, but wouldn't tell them! 

"Man o luume?" {What about time?} His 'younger' brother hazard another guess. "Taie, ar erya noa le man levoitre kena. Randa lna, dan uume nessa. Ar luume ta orta, dan iire ana titta ta tevie, sanda?" {It's inevitable, and you only know what you've experienced. You can grow older, but not younger. And time is valuable, but when it's short it's cursed, right?}

"Uma," Camthalion agreed. "Dan...ta uume noa sanda... Ar ta erya orta an mombre nosse. Kena nosse man enga. Ta luume ilya orta?" {But it doesn't feel right...And it's only valuable to some cultures. Take ours for example. Is time always valuable?}

"La... Erya iire ta titta, ar tevin ta man... Sii..." {No...Only when it's short, and we curse it... Like now...} 

~ * ~

The imperious house that stood atop the hill overlooking the village known as Little Hangleton had been made quite a bit more presentable in the last year. It wasn't the damp and derelict manor that had stood there less than a year prior. Now it was the attractive mansion that had stood there nearly half a century earlier, easily the largest and the grandest building for miles around. But that didn't make it appealing to any of the inhabitants of the nearby village. None of them were willing to go anywhere near it... There was something _strange_ about it... something that made them frightfully uncomfortable... They didn't know what, all they knew was that something **_evil_** dwelt within those walls...

And, in this case, although they all were Muggles, their instincts were entirely too right. For this was the "the Riddle House", and was, at present Lord Voldemort, the Heir of Slytherin's Dark Fortress.

The Dark Lord himself was currently inside those walls, as he had been for many months now. His demonic red eyes were currently watching the door, awaiting the answering to his summons. And it came, quickly. One of his followers, a nameless, low rank that had been given the honor of attending to their lord's will on command, entered the room, bowing. 

It took him only a short moment to reach his lord, and then he was kneeling beside the Dark Lord's chair, his head slightly bowed, "You called, my Lord?"

"Hold out your arm..." Voldemort commanded. 

The order was quickly obeyed, as the Death Eater, knowing what his master wanted, held out his left arm, pulling the sleeve up to bare the upper half as he did so. This displayed the vivid red tattoo that displayed his loyalties to the Dark Lord; the Dark Mark. Usually, it was dark black, but it was always the deep, burning crimson it currently was, in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. 

The Heir of Slytherin said nothing as he reached out and pressed his long white forefinger onto the brand, ignoring the young man's hiss of pain.

~ * ~

"So when are we going to have the next meeting?" Ron asked, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"_Ron!_" Hermione hissed, whacking him upside the head. 

"Owe! What?!" The youngest of the Weasley brothers demanded, turning slightly to bare a rather pitiful glare at his bushy-haired best friend. "I'm just curious!"

"You shouldn't talk about it in public!" She told him softly, "_Anyone_ could hear you!"

"She's right, Ron," Harry shook his head, also keeping his voice low as both his young friends turned to him. "Especially with that band on clubs Umbridge has up. We don---" He stopped abruptly, wincing slightly. 

"Harry?" Hermione inquired worriedly when he didn't continue.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked, when the other wizard didn't immediately reply. 

Harry didn't answer, instead choosing to focus on his breathing for several moments; _'In...Out...In...Out..._' When he finally felt he had that under control, he glanced over towards the front of the hall, to the Staff Table. His friends also turned, to see Professor Snape making a hurried exit.

"Was he...?" 

"Yes," Harry nodded, not letting Hermione finish the question, watching Snape leave with eyes so dark that they almost looked black.

~ * ~

**_Middle Earth - Isengard - July 10, 3434 3A_**

_"Smoke rises from the Mountain of Doom. The hour grows late. And Gandalf the Grey rides to Isengard, seeking my counsel..." The White Wizard shook his head as he reached the base of his tower, nodding to the other Istari as he dismounted. "For that is why you have come, is it not? My old friend."_

_"Saruman," Gandalf bowed, acknowledging the Head of his Order._

_Saruman nodded once again, gesturing for him to follow him inside, listening to his tale as the walked up the steps. When the Grey Wizard had finished, he looked at him, "You are **sure** of this?"_

_"Beyond any doubt."_

_"So the Ring of Power has been found...."_

_"All these long years, it was hidden in the Shire." Gandalf shook his head, "Right under my very nose..."_

_"And yet you did not have the wit to see it..." The White Wizard looked at him, shaking his head as they finally reached the top of the long staircase, and stepped inside. "Your love of the halfling's leaf, has clearly slowed your mind."_

_"But we must still have time." Gandalf said, nodding as he focused on hope. "Time enough to counter Sauron, if we act quickly."_

_"Time?" Saruman raised an eyebrow, halting as they reached the entrance to the study he'd chosen to lead the other wizard to, not far from his 'throne room', as Gandalf had jokingly dubbed it many centuries before. "What time, do you think we have?"_

_The Grey Wizard frowned as the other turned and walked into the room, but nonetheless followed him inside, and across the room, watching him take the only seat in the room._

_"Sauron has regained much of his former strength." Saruman began, shaking his head slightly as he watched the other wizard. "He cannot yet take physical form, but his spirit has lost none of its potency. Concealed within his fortress, the Lord of Mordor **sees all**. His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth and flesh."_

_Realizing what the other spoke of, the Grey Wizard looked away, troubled._

_"You know of what I speak, Gandalf. A Great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame."_

_Gandalf nodded, his reply quiet, "The Eye of Sauron..."_

_"He is gathering all evil to him." Saruman continued, "Very soon he will have summoned an army great enough to launch an assault upon Middle Earth."_

_"You **know** this?" The Grey wizard inquired, his eyes narrowing slightly. "How?"_

_Saruman smiled slightly, as he rose and led the way out of the room, nodding towards his throne room. "I have seen it..."_

_Gandalf's eyes widened as he turned towards the room, making his towards its center and the covered pedestal that resided there. "A palantír is a dangerous tool, Saruman."_

_"Why?" When the other wizard turned to gape at him, the White Wizard shook his head. "Why should **we** fear to use it?" he asked, reaching forward and removing the blanket that hid the black orb underneath. _

_"They are not all accounted for, the Lost Seeing Stones. We do not know who else may be watching." The Grey Wizard replied, shaking his head at the 'Wise Wizard's' sudden lack of wisdom, while taking the cloth from his unresisting grasp and throwing it back over the stone. He froze, however, startled, when he felt a great gathering of Dark power...evil, suddenly disperse from the dark orb._

_"The hour is later than you think." Saruman told him, once again taking the only seat in the room. "The Nine have left Minas Morgul._

_Gandalf's widened as he turned back towards the other wizard, his eyes wider than usual. "The Nine?"_

_"They crossed the river Isen on Midsummer's Eve, disguised as riders in black."_

_"They've reached the Shire?!"_

_"They will find the Ring," Saruman nodded, not the least bit perturbed. "And **kill** the one who carries it..."_

_"Frodo!" Gandalf spun around to leave, but quickly found his way barred, as the double doors swung shut. He stopped, turning back to look at Isengard's Lord for a moment, before making his way toward one of the side doors. That set also swung shut, as did the ones on the opposite side, when he turned towards them._

_"You did not seriously think that a Hobbit could contend with the will of Sauron? There are **none** who **can**..."_

_And it was then that the Grey Wizard finally realized what had happened, as he turned back to his former friend, taking a step towards him while looking into his eyes searchingly._

_"Against the power of Mordor, there can be no victory.... We must join with him, Gandalf. We must join with Sauron..."_

_Gandalf frowned, shaking his head as he continued to watch the other._

_"It would be wise, my friend." Saruman warned._

_"Tell me...friend... When did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for **madness**?" Gandalf finished harshly, quickly gripping his staff defensively as the Head of His Order rose to his feat._

_He knew he even before the fight began, that he truly stood no chance. Saruman was the head of the Order of Wizards, the White Wizard. And Gandalf himself, the Grey Wizard could not hope to outmatch him. But that did not mean he could give up willingly. He himself would rather die than serve the Dark Lord. _

_Their magical brawl was brief, the closest Grey Pilgrim came to triumph being when he threw the other wizard from the Tower of Orthanc's main chambers. But that victory was a short one, as the other wizard rose quickly, only to summon the Grey wizard's staff from his own hands._

_The fight was over, this was as clear as it had been in the beginning, that he had no chance of victory. And it was only proven when the White Wizard demonstrated his true power by utilizing both staffs, sending the Grey Wizard to the floor in pain. _

_"I gave you the chance of aiding me...willingly..." Saruman told him, glaring at him as he made his way back into the central chamber, both staffs focused on the other wizard. "But you...have elected...the way of...**pain!**" He finished, raising both staffs to send the other wizard flying toward the ceiling. _

_All Gandalf could hope for, as he flew towards the top of the Orthanc, where he knew Saruman intended to either imprison him for the time being, or slay him, was that Frodo and Sam would find their way into Aragorn's care... For he would lead them to Rivendell, where they would be under Elrond's protection...and only the Elves stood a chance of protecting the young one, and sending the Ring to its end, now... _

~ * ~

"Severus, we will hear your report first, considering your schedule." The Dark Lord Voldemort summoned the Head Slytherin from the gathered Death Eaters.

The Potions Master quickly stepped forward, bowing deeply before reporting as he'd been bid. "My lord, Dumbledore has called only one meeting since you last summoned me, and it was primarily a review session. The Order grows anxious by your lack of activity, and is becoming more bothered by the Minister's actions every day..."

"Ahh, good, good," the Dark Lord nodded, apparently quite pleased with the news. "And the Muggle-lover knows nothing of our activities? Of our followers?"

"The Order hasn't been able to pick up any activity, aside from a decrease in Dark activity as of late, which came to them through Ministry contacts, I believe. And they suspect a number of people's loyalties, but have little prove, certainly not enough to risk more attention from the Ministry and the media..."

"Excellent..." Voldemort nodded, his demonic gaze alight. After a moment, he nodded, once again focussing on the professor. "That is all?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then you had best be on your way, Severus. As your lunch break will be over momentarily. Dismissed."

"Thank you, my lord." Snape replied, bowing deeply before falling back into the Death Eater ranks and making his way to the nearest exit. 

~ * ~

It was an unusual thing, to hear students talking at the beginning of Potions, usually Snape started the class either at exactly the right time, or a little earlier, if he saw of the members of his house were present. But he couldn't do that today, because he wasn't there...

Now, teenagers being teenagers (and human), this was something to talk about. Some people had noticed the professor's hurried departure during lunch, and those that hadn't were hearing about it now. Obviously he wasn't back yet, so then where was he?

"You think he's...?" Ron kept his inquiry quiet, although that may have been because he was afraid Hermione would smack him again if he asked too loudly, which was quite possible.

Both of the other Prefects nodded as they continued to set up their lab equipment. They were among the few who had noticed that although their Potion's Professor was not present, he had left instructions for them on the board. And it was those instructions they were following. They'd already gathered the proper materials: _devil's ashes_, _dittany roots_, _dried asphodel_, _dry mallowsweet_, _essence of belladonna_, _ground holly_, _nettles _and _powdered moonstone_. Apparently it was the _devil's ashes_ that were giving the class the most trouble, as all of the other students had noticed the few who had bothered getting their materials ready and decided that it was probably a good idea, so as not to face the Potions Master's wrath. But now none of them could find _anything_ labeled '_devil's ashes_'. Usually the Professor brought all of the ingredients out, the general exception being when he was in a particularly bad mood. And it looked like he did leave everything out before he left. But there wasn't any '_devil's ashes_'! Although they thought perhaps he'd left the wrong thing out, as there _was_ a jar of 'dried _devil's snare_ roots'.

"Oh for _Merlin's sake_ you imbeciles, where have you _been_ the last four years?" Malfoy was the first to lose his patience with all of the students that were still wandering around the supply cabinet. "'_Devil's ashes_' **_is_** '_devil's snare_' turned to ash."

"Turn to ask?" One of his housemates asked, apparently quite confused by the concept. 

"Yes, Mr. Greengrass, turned to ash." Professor Snape had finally appeared, sweeping in from the hallway and waving his hand to make the door swing shut behind him as he made his way to the front of the class. "Five points to Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy." He nodded to Draco as he got up to the front, seeing the bluebell flames the blonde was using to burn the devil's snare. He ignored the identical flames that Harry, Ron and Hermione had in front of them, instead choosing to scowl at the rest of the class. "_Well?_ Why aren't the rest of you following Malfoy's example?"

It was times like these that Harry was sure this was more than just an act for the Potions Master. Regardless of the fact that it wouldn't look good (to Voldemort and his followers) if Snape showed any favors to anyone the Dark Lord didn't like... The Gryffindor was quite sure the Professor liked to bully the younger witches and wizards, if only a little bit....

~ * ~

Afterwards, Harry decided that Tuesday was a good day, even with Potions right after lunch. He had to extra periods today, which were undoubtedly meant for assignments and studying. But he'd finished all of his homework already, with the exception of Potions, but Snape had been rather distracted today, probably due to his midday (ordeal), and actually hadn't assigned any homework. He hadn't even taken any points away from Gryffindor! 

...Well, except for when Hermione stopped Neville from adding the powdered moonstone before the dried asphodel. But she really had had no choice, Harry had already readied a small shielding around Neville's cauldron, seeing as the Professor (who'd he had seen do the very same thing several times before) hadn't noticed the explosion in the making.

Harry shook his head as he finally reached the _Room of Requirement_, smiling slightly as he reached out to grasp the handle.

"Potter!"

He froze momentarily, before quickly turning to watch as Malfoy hurried towards him. "What is it, Malfoy?" he asked, not overly happy to see him, but aware that he had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You really shouldn't come here the way you did today."

Harry blinked, "I beg your pardon?"

"Severus noticed," the Slytherin told him. "He probably would have followed you to see where you were going if he wasn't so tired..."

"Oh..." Harry frowned, before nodding. "Thank you... Anything else?"

The blonde was silent for several moments. Then he finally sighed, "I wanted to talk to you..."

Seeing as this probably wasn't going to be a short conversation, Harry sighed, pushing the door to the _Room_ open and stepping aside once he'd entered to wave the much younger wizard in. "Would you care to join Violet and I for tea, then?"

The Slytherin looked at him for several moments, before nodding. 

~ * ~

**_Middle Earth - August_**

_"She let us go! She let us go! Yes, yes, Precious! She let us go!" the creature cursed as 'Gollum' now had reason to rejoice as he made his way down the long stairway that led back to the ground. Moments before he had been the prisoner of the second pathway to Mordor, and had been fearing for his life. Fortunately for himself, the great spider wanted nothing to do with him. He smelled more awful than Orcs did. Therefore, he must taste awful, like them, maybe worse.... And that was pretty bad._

_So now he was free, having promised to return with good victims for Shelob... Of course, he didn't **have** to return. No, no. He didn't want to come back **here!** Too close to the terrible, terrible wraiths and Orcses. _

_No, no. He was heading to the Shire. To take his precious back from the Baggins Thief!_

_He would have his Precious back, yes, yes, he would!_

~ * ~

"Harry, look! Both Snape and Dumbledore are gone!" Ron whispered to him, apparently excited by this fact. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Where do you think they've gone?"

Hermione answered for him, "It's not _that_ hard to figure out, Ron! _Think!_"

The redhead was frowning for several moments, in thought. "Oh! Do you think he's rep--"

"Yes," Harry cut him off, shaking his head before lowering his voice. "And regardless of how much you may hate Snape, it'd be much better for the Wizarding world as a whole if you did not blow his cover."

"What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "He's right, Ron. There are something's you just don't talk about in public, if at all." Here, she lowered her voice, "The order's activities and the...study group are among those topics."

"But I wasn't talking about the Order!" Ron protested quietly, shaking his head. "Or the group... I was just pointing out that Snape--"

"If both Snape _and _Dumbledore aren't present," Harry told him, "it has to have something to do with the Order. And the Light can't afford to have his cover blown." He shook his head when Ron opened his mouth to protest. "_No_, not now..." Then he lowered his voice even more. "And speaking of the group, if you must know, I told Violet to send another note around after supper. Alright?"

~ * ~

"So..." Dumbledore sighed, "He is aware of our troubles, yet seems to be planning nothing?"

"No," Snape shook his head, "He's planning _something_, he's just not telling anyone what it is."

It was times like these that Hogwarts' legendary headmaster began to look his age. He was tired, just like every other member of the Order, but he was much older then the other members, too. And it showed... 

"He still doesn't trust you?"

"He doesn't _trust_ any of us." The Potions Master told him. "Remember, he said that anyone that didn't rot in Azkaban for him, or at least _try_ to find him after he fell, wasn't worthy of his trust."

Here, the Headmaster looked up sharply, "And those that did?"

"I have no doubt that he intends to get them back..." Snape shook his head, "And he won't have a hard time of it, either."

"No," Dumbledore sighed, "he can offer more to the Dementors than the Ministry ever could... In that respect, Azkaban had already fallen..."

~ * ~

"Is there anything that Dobby can do for Lady Violet?"

Violet smiled slightly at the young elf's enthusiasm. What Harry had told her of the House Elves of his world hadn't made her overly keen on meeting them, but she'd come to find that their love of work was quite endearing. It was saddening that an entire world sought to take advantage of their simple nature. Very saddening indeed.... 

"Yes, Celahir," she replied, shaking her head slightly at the excitement that evoked. She reached into one of the side pockets of her robes and pulled out the note that Harry had given her earlier that day. "Harry would like these to be delivered after supper. And the meeting should start at eight. Would you see to it that there are refreshments are here for that time, please?"

"Dobby will deliver them! And Dobby will tell others to prepare!" the House Elf smiled, jumping up and down excitedly as she handed the brief jottings to him, which read:

_Friends, _

_Meet again in the same location, tonight at eight._

_Thank you._

It was safe, if someone who wasn't supposed to find it, found it, they wouldn't have a clue what it meant. Still, a little more precaution wouldn't hurt...

"Would you charm these, so that once they've been read by their recipient, they will no longer be legible?" 

"Of course, milady, Dobby will," the House Elf replied, still incredibly pleased by the concept of delivering the package of notes. "The receivers are the same as before?"

"Yes, but there's one more this time. Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, you know him, correct?"

"O-oh, yes, Dobby knows young Master Malfoy." The House Elf replied, albeit nervously. "Dobby served his family for many years... He is joining Milord Harry Potter?" 

Violet nodded, "Yes, apparently he doesn't wish to follow in his father's footsteps. At least not entirely.... The Malfoys are generally considered a Dark family, yes?"

"Y-Yes, milady. Dobby is glad to hear of Master Draco's choice... Dobby will deliver the letters--"

"Wait, Dobby," the Elven Lady stopped him with a kind smile. "There're some things I'd like to ask you. Do you mind?"

"Oh, no! Dobby always likes to be of service, lady!" The house elf replied, bowing.

"You know of my kindred?"

"Oh, yes. All House Elf's know of the Great Ones!"

"What do you know of them?"

"Very little, milady. Just what Dobby had heard in legends..."

Violet nodded, "Tell me..."

~ * ~

_When the Queen of the Vala, known to the Elves as Elentári, rekindled the light of the stars, Eru's Children woke by the Mere of Cuviénen. They were the Elves, and the fist thing they (perceived) upon coming into being was the starlight. Which is why they worship Elentári above all other Valar. _

_They were the fairest of the races born on Arda. Their hair could only be compared to the finest spun gold and silver. They seem to walk in a light of their own, akin to that of the moon. Starlight glimmers in their hair, silken clothes and jeweled hands, just as it shines from their eyes. For when they woke to the starlight, some of it remained in their gaze, and would shine from it forever there after... There is always light on the Elven face, and their voices rival even those of the Ainur, as beautiful and subtle as water._

_The Creator, whom they know as Ilúvatar, declared that Elves would both possess and creatre more beauty than any other earthly creatures. Just as they would enjoy the greatest happiness and suffer the deepest sorrow. They would be immortal, so that they might live as long as the Earth lived. Sickness and pestilence would never haunt them naturally, but their bodies would be like the Earth in substance and could be destroyed. Those that fought could be slain with fire, steel or poison in war. They could be murdered. And even die of grief. Men would be their equals in stature, but the Elves would usually be stronger in spirit and limb. And would not grow weak with age, only wiser and more fair. _

_Of all their arts they would excel best in speech, song and poetry. They taught all of the of speech and word to all of the races on Earth, and so earned the right to call themselves the "Quendi", which means "speakers"._

~ * ~

"_I am inevitable, though not all know me_

_I can be gained, but cannot be lost_

_I'm invaluable, yet often cursed_

_What am I?_"

"Anwa?" {Truth?}

Rúmil shook his head, sighing once again. "Iltaika, kaila ilta naraka... Man o ilfirin?" {Not inevitable, lying isn't that difficult... What about immortality?}

"Laa..." Camthalion shook his head, "Ta uume iltaika ana firima. Ta ilna sanha, dan ta na wanwa..." {It's hardly inevitable to mortals. It can't be gained, though it can be lost...}

"Tanka! Nin anto!" {Fine! I give up!} Rúmil snapped after several minutes more of thinking. "Im wanyale ana fuume. Koiva nin ae noale o ilyanat. Ilae, kena le entore-- daro, man ta na entore?" {I'm going to rest. Wake me up if you think of something. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow--Wait, could it be tomorrow?}

"Mankoi na moka le entore?" {Why would you curse tomorrow?}

"A... se le na wanya le veru ana minya ilmelme le?" {Umm...if you were getting married to someone you didn't like?}

Camthalion blinked, "Mankoi na carle _nat?_" {Why would you do _that?_}

"A ilnoa nin... Im ana loralya sii!" {...I don't know... I'm going to sleep now!} 

"Carle nat..." {You do that...} Camthalion nodded, watching as his twin leaned back against the rock they were sitting next to. A moment later the light in his sapphire eyes had dimmed slightly, signifying that he walked in Elven dreams. Then the older twin sighed, also lying back against the rock, closing his eyes slightly, to think.

~ * ~

"Just _look_ at these books!" Hermione was babbling excitedly as she scanned the titles of the Defense books the _Room_ had provided at their request. "_A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions, The Dark Arts Outsmarted, Self-Defensive Spellwork ..._ wow..."

Harry shook his head as she continued to skim through the bookshelves until she apparently found one she liked; _Jinxes for the Jinxed_, took it out and made her way back over to the table. 

"Do you think the _Room_ will let us take any of these back to our dorms?"

The wizard shrugged, "It's worth a try, I suppose.... Why don't we get started now?" 

"Malfoy's not here yet," Ron pointed out, though he didn't really appear to care.

"Maybe he ran into Snape on the way here, who knows," Harry shrugged. "In any case, we can't wait forever. So we mine as well start now."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" Dean asked pointing to some of the instruments in the shelves along the wall.

"Dark Detectors," Harry replied offhandedly. "They're basically supposed to tell you when enemies are nearby. But you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled..."

"What's the mirror for?" Colin Creevy asked, looking at the cracked Foe-Glass.

"That's a Foe-Glass, it'll tell you whenever an enemy is nearby, the more recognizable the image is, the closer they are."

Everyone in the room looked at the glass, and although shadowy figures were moving around inside of it, none of them were recognizable.

"Well, anyway," Harry shook his head, "I suppose, for a start, we ought to pick a name. Not having one is a bit of an inconvenience...So...any ideas?"

"Can we be the _Anti-Umbridge League_?" Angelina asked hopefully.

"Or the _Ministry of Magic are Morons Group_?" Fred suggested.

"No," Hermione shook her head, "We should pick a name that doesn't tell everyone what we're up to, so we can refer to it outside of meetings, safely."

"How about the _Defense Association_?" Cho suggested after a moment's thought. "And _D.A._ for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"The _D.A._'s good," Ginny nodded her approval, "Only, let's make it stand for _Dumbledore's Army_, because that's the Ministry's greatest fear, isn't it?"

Everyone had to laugh at that.

After a moment, Hermione looked around, "All in favor of the _D.A.?_" she asked, somewhat bossily, looking around and counting the raised hands. "That's a majority -- motion passed!"

Harry shook his head slightly, amused at how active Hermione was becoming in this. After a moment, he spoke up, "So that'll be our name for it," he looked at Violet, "As Elves usually give things like this at least one Elvish name, do you have any?"

Everyone turned to watch Violet as she thought about it. If the Elven Lady were a teenager, she probably would've found the stares a bit disconcerting. As it was, she had little difficulty ignoring them as she sorted through her mind to find something. After several moments of thought, she nodded, "_I'Kala Vantánosse_ and _Kala O'laisi_."

"That's pretty..." Ginny murmured, breaking the momentary silence that followed her decision. "What's it mean?"

"The Light Walkers and Light of Youth." Violet replied, smiling slightly. "It suits you all, should you remain on this path."

Harry smiled before continuing, "Very well then, let the first meeting of the _D.A._ commence."

"_D.A._?" Malfoy inquired as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, "What does that mean?"

Ron answered sharply, before anyone else could say anything. "If you had been here _on time_, you'd know that already, Malfoy! What kept you? Reporting us to Umbridge, already?"

The Slytherin rolled his eyes, "Cool it, Weasel, for Merlin's sake. I thought we already discussed that."

"We did," Harry nodded, frowning at Ron, "And until he proves otherwise, Malfoy is one of us."

The redhead winced slightly at that, but otherwise made no response.

"Have a seat, then," Harry waved to the only empty chair left at the table. Once the blonde had complied, he continued. "Alright, I think we'll just start this off with a short test, to see what we don't need to cover. Don't worry, it shouldn't take more then a few minutes. Each paper has a list of twenty 'Dark' things you might run into at one point or anther," he told them while placing the pile of tests on the table. "Write down what it is, and how you would solve it or defend yourself against it. Now, there's more then one solution to most of them, but don't write more then two down, or we'll be here forever." With that, he tapped the pile with his wand, muttering something under his breath that sent a test parchment to each person around the table.

Violet was the first one done, she handed her parchment to him a few minutes later, watching as he looked it over:

1. 

**Boggarts -**_ A shapeshifter that feeds on the emotion of fear_

**Solution - **_Riddikulus jinx __à laughter_

2. 

**Basilisk -**_ The King of Serpents is a snake that can live for thousands of year's, and reach gigantic proportions in that timeframe. It has many ways of killing its prey, its venomous fangs and its magically murderous stare among them._

**Solution -** _A rooster's crow_

3. 

**Petrification -**_ A magical state that closely resembles death. But the victim is actually alive, only in suspended animation. _

**Solution -** _The brew made from mandrake roots_

4. 

**Dementors -**_ Dark creatures that drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. If a living being comes gets too close, every good feeling and happy memory they possess will be sucked out of them. If they're near them long enough, they'll be left with only the worse experiences of their life. _

**The Kiss -**_ The Dementor's last and worst weapon is the removal of its victim's soul._

**Solution -** _The Patronus Charm_

5. 

**Animagus -**_ A witch/wizard who can transform into an animal_

**Solution -** _Know that animals weakness_

6. 

**Vampires -**_ Dark creatures that are neither living, nor dead. They are the Undead, who survive on the blood of the living._

**Solution -** _fire, stake through heart_

7. 

**Pogrebins -**_ Small creatures that resemble rocks, that love to follow people around, infusing them with a sense of hopelessness. When the victim collapses, the creature will pounce. _

**Solution -**_ Apparation/cheering charm_

8. 

**Locomotor Mortis -**_ Leg Locker Curse_

**Solution -**_ Finite Incantatum_

9. 

**House Elf -**_ Small humanoid creatures that inhabit Wizarding homes, performing all sorts of menial labor. Regardless of popular belief, however, House Elves have very powerful magic in their own right, and require no tools to focus that power. If threatened, they are capable of being very formidable opponents. In most cases, however, they would use that magic to benefit the house they serve._

**Solution -** _I'm a True Elf, one wouldn't even consider attacking me anyhow_

Harry glanced up from the paper to raise an eyebrow at her. She stuck her tongue out at him. He shook his head before turning his attention back to the paper.

10. 

**Disillusionment Charm** **-**_ A charm that hides the true (magical) nature of something_

**Solution -** _Finite Incantatum_

11. 

**Fanged Geranium -**_ A plant that bites_

**Solution -** _Avoid it_

12. 

**Whomping Willow -**_ A tree (type of willow) that attacks anyone who gets to close_

**Solution -** _Don't get to close_

13. 

**Veela -**_ Humanoid creatures (when not angry, avian when they are) whose natural magic creates a powerful attraction in wizards/witches (of the opposite sex)_

**Solution -** _Disillusionment charm/shielding charm(s)_

14. 

**Devil's Snare -**_ A magical plant that uses its creepers and tendrils to ensnare anyone who touches it, binding their arms and legs and eventually choking them. The harder a victim struggles, the more tightly it binds them._

**Solution -** _Sunlight/bluebell flames_

15. 

**Life debt -**_ When someone saves a witch/wizards life, the witch/wizard's magic creates this debt, which must be repaid._

**Solution -** _Repay the debt?_

16. 

**Dragon -**_ Large flying reptiles which breathe fire_

**Solution -** _Weak spots: Eyes, weakness in armor_

17. 

**Legilimency -**_ The ability to extract thoughts/emotions from another's mind_

**Solution -** _Occlumency_

**Unforgivable Curses**

18. 

**The Imperius Curse -**_ A spell that gives the caster complete control of the victim_

**Solution -** _Strong will_

19. 

**The Cruciatus Curse -**_ A spell that makes the victim suffer almost intolerable pain_

**Solution -** _Mind over matter (Strong will)_

20. 

**Avada Kedavra -**_ The killing curse_

**Solution -** _Heart Magic/The Grace of the Valar_

**If you're bored, what are the following?**

1. **Impedimenta** **-**_ The Impediment Jinx, a spell that stops an object or slows it down_

2. **Expelliarmus -**_ Disarming spell_

3. **Wingardium -**_ Levitation spell_

4. **Stupefy -**_ Renders target unconscious_

5. **Silencio -**_ Silencing charm_

6. **Accio -**_ Summoning charm_

Harry nodded his approval with a smile, putting her anxiety to rest. A moment later, Hermione put her quill down, looking up, and he held up his hand, to tell her to wait a few minutes. It wasn't long after that that saw everyone had finished. So he called out, "Pass them in, please, and don't forget names. I'm obviously not grading you, but it helps to know who needs help with what, and who doesn't."

A few minutes later, all of the papers were in a neat stack on the shelf that had appeared under the table, in front of him, and he looked around.

"So, any questions?" 

When no one said anything he raised an eyebrow. 

"Didn't any part of that give you trouble?"

Silence...

"Okay... Neville, Devil's Snare and its weakness?"

"Umm..." the other Gryffindor reddened slightly as everyone turned to look at him. But after several moments of thought, he managed a reply. "A magical plant that will strangle anyone who touches it... one of its weaknesses is sunlight."

Harry nodded in approval before turning his attention to another, "Ginny, Boggarts and their weakness?"

"Shapeshifters, their weakness is laughter."

"Why?"

The redhead blinked, "What...?"

"Why is their weakness laughter? Why do they attack people?"

"Umm...they attack people...because they live off of fear...?" When Harry nodded, she continued, "And laughter's the exact opposite of that..."

"Good," the Gryffindor Prefect nodded, "Ron, Basilisks?"

"There giant snakes with poisonous bites and deadly eyes...and their weakness..." Ron frowned, thinking a moment, "I think its roosters..."

Harry nodded, "A rooster's crow is deadly to a basilisk...Susan, isn't it?" When the redhead nodded, he continued, "Dementors."

"Dark creatures that live off of the happiness of other life forms...Their strongest weapon is the removal of a victim's soul, in the from of The Kiss, and one of the ways to ward them off is the Patronus Charm..."

"Good... Malfoy, House Elves."

The blonde sneered, but replied nonetheless. "Creatures that enjoy menial labor, and have therefore bound themselves to the Wizarding world in the form of servants... They must obey any command their masters give them."

Harry didn't reply for several moments, letting the silence hang before he shook his head. "Not bad, but there's a little more to it then that... Hermione?"

"House elves have strong magic of their own, and they don't need a wand or anything to focus it. In most cases, they use that magic under their _master's_," her voice was heavy with distaste on that word, "command, although some have been known to use it to defend their home..."

Harry nodded, "You might not expect it, but House Elves are actually very strong when it comes to magic, both offensively and defensively. Because most witches and wizards choose to remain ignorant of that, their powers generally aren't much of a threat, but should a house elf feel that what they hold dear is threatened, they could be a powerful opponent magically... Lucky for us, though, they have another weakness that the Wizarding world is, for the most part, completely ignorant of," he turned his head slightly to nod at the Elf beside him, "Violet?"

"Long ago, the _Ar-Feiniel_, what my people call them, bound themselves to the Wizarding world, as they saw it as the only way they could have an important role in the world. They respected wizards then, as they do now, but, they respect my people more... Should a _Calmcacil_ be forced to choose between siding with one of the _Eldar_, or a wizard, they will, indefinitely, side with the Eldar...." {See: for names}

~ * ~

The meeting had gone well. Everyone had demonstrated a clear understanding of most of the topic's they ended up discussing, and there wasn't anyone present who wasn't interested. Although it had taken some time to get the notion that house elves might actually disobey their masters intentionally, clear to everyone, once it was clear, everyone had seen the advantage. It was the first time Harry had to actually glare at Hermione (that he could remember, anyhow) to get her to shut up, as she'd been trying to convince Violet (and everyone else in _D.A._) to join _S.P.E.W._ for the latter half of the meeting... 

Now, however, it was time to get some rest. Which wasn't so easily done when his mind was as active as it was now....

That would continue to be a problem with the late _D.A._ meetings, he supposed. The activity got his brain going, and could therefore keep him up most of the night.

None of his roommates seemed to suffer the same disposition, though. Ron had been snoring for the last half hour, Seamus had been out even longer, and Neville hadn't even staid awake to talk about the meetings like the others had wanted, he had been out the minute his head hit the pillow.

Of course, that was one thing Harry had noticed even before his sojourn to Middle Earth. He wasn't like other people, he was different...always different...

Which he shouldn't be thinking now, really. The point of meditation was to clear the mind, to rest it. He wasn't exactly letting it rest though, was he?

With a sigh, he went back to focusing on his breathing once again, while turning his thoughts inward...

_In..._

_Out..._

_In..._

_Out..._

_In..._

_Out..._

_In..._

Then, he felt it coming... Whether it was a vision of the future or of the present, he didn't know. There wasn't any real way to tell, beforehand, even with all of the Lady's lessons.... And then he was there...

_His body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone... He was flat against the stone, sliding along his belly... It was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colors... He was turning his head... At first glance, the corridor was empty...but no...a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin drooping onto his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark..._

_He put out his tongue, tasting the man's scent on the air..._

'_A snake, then,_' he realized, absent mindedly, easily repressing the slight panic he felt as he recognized Ron's father, Arthur Weasley... But where was he?

_Mr. Weasley was alive, but drowsing...sitting in front of a door at the end of corridor..._

_The snake longed to bite the wizard...but he had to master the impulse...He had more important things to do..._

'_Not a snake, then,_' Harry shook his head absent mindedly, watching. When Galadriel had first began teaching him to read visions (and she was a _much_ better teacher then Trelawney, to be sure) they'd all be much more real... He'd always been caught up in them. It took centuries of her careful tutelage to distance himself from them, as he was now... And even then, he knew that some could still overtake him, just as his coming had overtaken her...

_The man was stirring... a silvery cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet, drawing his wand..._

_The snake (Animagus) realized that he had no choice... He reared high from the floor, to strike--_

_'**NO!**' _Harry shouted, telepathically bringing his will down on the other. This had been another part of the Lady's tutelage... He wasn't anywhere near as powerful as she, for she had one of the three Elven Rings of Power; _Nenya, the Ring of Adamant_, to enhance her power. But he was strong, nonetheless...

_The Animagus stopped in shock, as Harry's command echoed through his head. He remained frozen long enough for Mr. Weasley to begin throwing hexes at him, which he dodged with ease, while turning his mind to attack the one who'd invaded his own..._

_'**Who are YOU?**' he demanded, and Harry suddenly realized who it was..._

_'**Wouldn't you like to know? Sorry if I've ruined your little outing, Tom. I'll probably be seeing you later, though. Night!**'_ And then, with a supreme amount of effort, Harry withdrew from the fleeing Dark Lord's mind, back into his own, throwing his mental shields up as he did so. 

He breath came out in a rush as he opened his eyes, to find himself back in his room again... Where nothing had changed...

Obviously, his concentration was broken by the disruption, as his breath now came in and out in heavy gasps, while sweat streamed down his forehead. 

'_So,_' the wizard realized as he lied back for a moment, resting. '_Voldemort, is an Animagus, a Legilimens, and an Occlumens..._' He paused as he felt a worried tug from deep within him...at his soul... He sighed, '_Ránëwén..._'

~ * ~

**_Caras Galadhon, The Grove_**_ (where the Mirror is)_

_Galadriel sighed as she pulled away from her mirror once more... Two thousand years ago she'd been looking for something interesting, because nothing had been happening on Middle Earth. Her world had been dormant, in the time after her daughter's departure. _

_Now, Middle Earth certainly **wasn't** inactive, but that wasn't what she wanted to see..._

_She knew that she should be keeping a closer eye on things, but really... Why should she? _

_The Fellowship would form, they would come here... She did not know who they would be, though she suspected the young Hobbit would come forward for the task. For indeed, who else could? Mithrandir would be with them, no doubt, as well._

_She knew that they would come. She knew what their intent would be. She didn't need to know more than that... And she didn't want to, not really..._

_What she wanted was a glimpse of her son. Nothing more, nothing less..._

_Even the smallest glimpse of him would make her happy. Just to see if it had been worth it. If Harry, Ránëwén, Camthalion, and Rúmil, were happy...._

_Was that really too much for a mother to ask?_

_Apparently, yes, it was. For her Mirror would not show her anything... It wouldn't even let her know if she really stood a chance of every seeing him again..._

_She'd known, when they'd sent them away, that there was a chance that they could be brought back. After all, that was part of the spell, wasn't it? _

_So they'd ensured that the places they were most likely to come out were ready for them. Even the Dwarves hadn't attested to doing that. Although, they had always been rather fond of Elerossë, so she wasn't really surprised._

_"Sii _ú-_veela o hon, melda nin?" {Still no sight of him, beloved?} Her husband inquired, his voice soothing, as it was intended to be. He knew how she felt, for really, he had loved, and still did love Elerossë almost as she did. He simply quelled his curiosity, and never got his hopes up, so he wasn't disappointed all the time..._

_"Lau..." {No...} the Lady of Light shook her head, her long waves of flowing, golden hair following the motion as a current of spun gold. After a moment she turned bright eyes towards her husband and lord, "Ya men voro cen-hon ata, melme nin?" {Will we ever see him again, my love?}_

_Celeborn met her beautiful eyes, holding them as he completed his descent down into the Grove. Once there, he sighed while making his way over to her. Upon reaching her, he pulled her into his arms, resting his chin atop her golden head as she leaned into his embrace. "Man naer merne..." {We can only hope...}_

~ * ~

"_I am inevitable, though not all know me_

_I can be gained, but cannot be lost_

_I'm invaluable, yet often cursed_

_What am I?_"

Camthalion sighed as he went over the answers they'd thought of and rejected thus far: Knowledge, Time, Truth, Tomorrow... so little...

It made his heart ache, to think of how Elerossë and Ránëwén were depending on them, and all they had to do was solve a little riddle, but they couldn't manage that! It was probably something ridiculously easy too, riddles were always like that... 

'_Wait!_' he realized, '_that's it! It has to be something we, as Elves wouldn't think of... Other then that, it should be simple...All right, think..._'

Of course, there was one think that one would certainly never consider, as his people tended to look down on it, but.... wait...

'_That's it!_' he leapt to his feet at the realization, a bright smile alighting his fair features. After a moment's silence, he turned to his still sleeping twin, nudging him with his foot to wake him up. "Koiva, nat ta il-luume ana na loralya! Koiva!" {Wake up, this is no time to be napping! Wake up!}

"Ma--?" {Wha--?} Rúmil blinked as his eyes came back into focus, showing that he had rejoined the conscious world once more. After a moment he looked up, raising an eyebrow at him smiling twin. "Man ta?" {What is it?}

"Noa nin iya." {I know the answer.}

"Le...Noa le iya...ana ilirit?" {You...You know the answer... To the riddle?}

"Uma!" Camthalion nodded, still smiling.

"Mae, man tane?" {Well, what is it?}

"Mortality."

~ * ~

It was amazing, really, how much justice the _Room_ did to Elven architecture. With the combined silvery glow of the moon, the stars, and the Elven lights Violet had already lit within, her chambers were a comforting sight to one who considered the Elven culture an essential part of the word 'home'. For indeed, how could he not? He'd been the Prince of the Galadhrim for nearly two thousand years!

"Na nwalya le..." {You were troubled...} Violet began, watching him carefully as he entered, her namesake eyes filled with love and concern. 

"Uma," Harry nodded, while making his way over to the balcony, to seat himself beside her on the bench, turning slightly to view the lake, which she'd been watching when he'd entered. It was no secret that Elves loved the stars, and it wasn't really surprising, if you saw there beauteous reflection on the water now. "Na nin ana maur..." {I had a vision...}

"Wanwie, Sii o Kena?" {Past, present or future?} she asked, politely curiosity in her tone, not tinged by the worry she was feeling. 

"Sii..." {Present...} He replied, still watching the waters. He found the combination of the water and the starlight comforting. Mainly because it reminded him of the Lady, his foster-mother. As one of the Elves, starlight was an inherent part of her being. And her Ring, _Nenya_, was the _Ring of Adamant_, but it was also the _Ring of Water_...

"Tolo dan na nin, melda nin..." {Come back to me, beloved...} Violet called to him softly. 

He turned towards her slightly in response, and she smiled, bringing a gentle hand up to his cheek, holding it in the most gentle, loving embrace imaginable. 

"Man na?" {What happened?} 

They stayed like that, their eyes locked, for several moments, before Harry finally broke the silence with a sigh. "Uume loralya nin," {I couldn't sleep,} he began shaking his head. "Ai esse nin nowo..." {So I started meditating...}

"Ar imaur tulie..." {And the vision came...}

"Uma," the wizard nodded, "Na nin an (ango/angwi/leuke)...an iringa talam-ondo an iloona, memmen... Kenale onat..." {I was a snake...slithering on the cold stone floor in the dark, somewhere... Looking for something...}

"'Na' le?" {You were?} she demanded quietly, frowning. "Uume le haiyasse lena?" {Didn't you distance yourself?}

"Uma," he nodded, "dan taa nin ana titta luume..." {but it took me a little while...} After a moment's pause he continued. "Hon na kenale onat... Hon un-wanne ianda, loona marde, ar kena en atar o Ron ya ityel..." {He was looking for something... He went down a long, dark corridor, and ran into Ron's father at the end...}

"Tur Weasley?" {Mr. Weasley?} the Elven lady frowned, "Man na carhon en?" {what was he doing there?}

Harry shook his head, "Ilnoa nin..." {I don't know...} he shrugged, "Tirale nat, noa nin..." {Guarding something, I think...}

Violet nodded, "Tirale ya hon -- Voldemort, noa nin?" {Guarding whatever he -- Voldemort, I presume?" At her betrothed's nod, she continued, "Tirale ya Voldemort iire ana kena..." {Guarding whatever Voldemort wanted to see...}

"Uma," Harry nodded again. "Hon wanya ana nahta hon, dan nin _ hon..." {He tried to attack him, but I stopped him...}

Violet frowned, thinking that bit of information over for several moments before releasing a sigh. "Ai sii, hon noa nat ta yana enta mine en ana tyalya... Mine hon maure ana noa o..." {So now, he will know that there's someone new coming in to play... Someone he has to worry about...}

"Uma, dan uume noa hon ta nin... Renich? Ana hon, im er an laito." {Yes, but he won't think it's me... Remember? To him, I'm only a teenager."

"Man naer merne..." {We can only hope...} Violet nodded, still watching him. After several moments of silence she rose to her feet, offering him a hand. 

The wizard blinked, before raising his emerald gaze to meet her violet one. "Ma--?" {Wha--?}

"Lilta o nin, melme." {Dance with me, love.} She commanded, reaching down to take one of his hands, and pulling playfully at it.

After several more moments of silence, Harry smiled, and finally rose. 

Dancing was one of the activities that it seemed all Elves excelled in, so he had, of course, learned the art while living among the Galadhrim. It was one of the ways in which they could express themselves with ease and beauty. 

Harry knew what she was doing. He had come here with the intent of reassuring her, proving to her that he was all right, regardless of the stress she'd felt through their bond. But, instead, she'd seen that he wasn't all right, and as the Elven atmosphere and her presence seemed to calm him, she was seeking to enhance that effect...

He slowly drew her to him, close enough to feel the heat of her body and nothing else. With one hand holding hers, the other placed at the center of her waist, he began to lead her through one of the most simple Elven dances he knew. It closely resembled the waltz, but many of the intricate steps bore the semblance of grace most mortals could not begin to envision. Like most, if not all of the Elven dances, it was a dance developed over many centuries, perfected to the art that it was meant to be. 

Violet smiled as she followed his lead. She was the one who had taught him most of the Elven dances he knew. At that time, she had been the one leading, for in Elven culture it wasn't frowned upon at all, though it was a bit unusual. Some of the techniques to lead were different depending on who was leading, but it was much easier to teach someone if you could lead them. 

So now, this art was usually a game for them, a battle of wills as each led their partner through the intricate steps, while they trade roles in turn. It was beautiful, to be sure, the more complex dances even more so. But this dance was not meant for show, it was meant for comfort...

As he stared into her eyes, and she stared into his, the rest of the world faded away. His worries slowly faded with it, as they always did, upon her adoring foray. The dance may have gone on for hours, or perhaps only minutes, for all they knew. They were alone in their own little world, lit by the starlight and the glow of the Elven lights. 

After awhile though, they began to come back. 

It was Violet who sighed first.

"Man taen?" {What is it?} Harry asked, frowning slightly at the slight pain he'd seen in her eyes.

She shook her head, "Ta ilnat" {It is nothing...}

"If it were nothing, it would not cause you pain, melda nin."

"No," the Elf agreed, "I suppose not."

"You have listened to my worries this night," he raised a curious eyebrow to her. "What troubles you?"

Violet remained silent for several moments before replying. "Just a realization..."

"Of?"

She looked up at him, her starlit gaze brighter than usual. "We won't be able to tell your friends in this world about us for a long time, will we?"

Harry frowned, "I don't know...Perhaps... It all depends on how well our plans go..." he shook his head, "I know Professor Dumbledore could probably accept it, but the others would need a lot more time..."

"So our wedding in your world will have to wait even longer..."

The wizard closed his eyes painfully, silently reprimanding himself for not seeing it sooner. After a moment, he sighed, and opened his eyes to meet hers again. "We _are_ married."

"En ipaulerin o nosta nin, uma, men na. Dan sinome..." {In the world of my birth, yes, we are. But here...} The Elven lady shook her head, "Im ana muina... Men melme ta ana muina, anna halda o ipaulern..." {I am a secret... Our love is a secret, to be hidden from the world...}

Harry sighed again shaking his head, "Men uuya kotya yellole e, ilsii... Mere nin ana, dan... Men uuya..." {We can't risk telling them, not yet... I want to, but... We can't...}

"I know..." She came to a stop, and so did he. 

For a moment, all he could do was look into her eyes, then he looked down to her soft, pink lips. After a moment, he cupped her jaw, threaded his fingers through her dark, silken hair, and tilted her face to receive him as he leaned down slightly, his lips meeting hers in a gentle, comforting kiss.

It didn't solve anything, but for now, it was enough....

**_End of Chapter 8._**

**Translations:**

Muina - Secret

**Response to Reviews: In the update before this chapter! (Just like the responses to the reviews for this chapter will come directly after this chapter.)**

**AN:**

Bye! ^_^

~ **Jess S**


	10. Chapter 9: Good Morning! …Well, Not Real...

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

There and Back Again

Chapter 9: Good Morning! …Well, Not Really 

By Jess S

Mornings were always interesting at Hogwarts. How could they not be? Throw a bunch of teenagers into close quarters and _something_ has to happen to at least one of them each morning. And the Gryffindors could always count on the Weasley twins to provide entertainment; although this was the last year they'd be here to do so.

This morning, a shriek from one of the dormitories above his woke Ron Weasley just in time for breakfast. He didn't bother going to see what had happened, after all, it sounded like it'd come from one of the Seventh Year dormitories, which was easy game for the twins.

The youngest of the Weasley brothers called, yawned as he forced himself out of bed. Upon seeing that his best friend's drapes were still closed, he called out to him. "Harry, mate, time to get up!" 

He didn't wait to see if his call was answered, Harry always got up, unless he wasn't feeling well, in which case he shouldn't, _especially_ if it was because of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That didn't mean that he wasn't concerned, however, when his friend hadn't even attempted to rise by the time he was showered, dressed and ready to leave for breakfast.

"Harry," the redhead asked, making his way over to the bed, "you okay in there?" He frowned when he again received no response, reaching out to pull the curtains back, "Harry?"

He blinked at the site the withdrawal of the curtains revealed. 

~ * ~

"I just don't understand what happened!" Mr. Weasley shook his head, "Not that I'm not grateful, but still... You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"'Reckon he sent it as a lookout," Moody growled, his magical eye rolling this way and that. "He's not had any luck so far, has he?"

Professor Dumbledore sighed, "We seemed to have overlooked that possibility," he shook his head, "Voldemort is a Parselmouth and a Legilimens, it's not surprising that he might consider sending a snake in as a spy... You disagree, Severus?" 

The Potions Master sighed, before nodding. "You are overlooking another possibility."

"Which is?"

"The Dark Lord is a Parselmouth, and the Heir of Salazar Slytherin," Snape began, shaking his head. "Therefore, it would not surprise me if his Animagus form would be that of a snake."

A heavy silence hung around the room for several moments, to be broken by Mrs. Weasley.

"Y-You-Know-Who is an Animagus?" she inquired, her eyes wide as she turned to meet her husband's gaze. "And if Arthur hadn't been there...."

"He could have taken the prophecy," Dumbledore nodded, "yes."

"But that _still_ doesn't make any _sense!_" Sirius Black objected. "If that was Voldemort himself, why didn't he attack? No offense to Arthur, but I highly doubt Voldemort would've considered him a threat..."

Mr. Weasley nodded, sighing deeply before shaking his head. "I don't know... _Something_ stopped him... But what?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, frowning. "What could startle or frighten Voldemort," he ignored the unanimous flinches around him, "into flight?" 

"I didn't see anything," Mr. Weasley shook his head, "Suddenly he was poised to attack, then he stopped, and when I started throwing hexes at him, he fled...but if he hadn't stopped, I wouldn't have had time to defend myself..."

After several moments of thought, Dumbledore nodded, "Well, luckily we may be able to find out..." When everyone looked at him, he rose from his chair, making his way to the back of the room and opening the cabinet that held his Pensieve. But he didn't take the shallow basin out, instead choosing to reach for something on a higher shelf. Instead, he took out what looked like a crystal ball, a very old one, before making his way back over to them. He set the ball on his desk, carefully situated on a stand that he'd apparently brought out with it, before making his way over to the fire place, and taking some white powder out of a dish atop the mantle. The fire, which had been dull embers before, suddenly roared to life when the dust was tossed upon it. Only then did the Headmaster speak, "_Althea Vatis_."

A little over a minute later, a woman's head appeared in the fire. Her face bore the semblance of one who was used to concentrating often, yet the affect was ruined by the smile that lit her elderly face, "Albus, how nice to see you! To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"I'm afraid we are in need of the talents of an accomplished seer, my dear," Dumbledore replied, "I had hoped you could take a look into some recent events for us."

"Oh, gladly," she nodded, still smiling. "It's not like I have anything else to do." Here, she shook her head, sighing. "Retirement has its perks, but I do believe I'm getting rather bored... Shall I come over now, then?"

"If it isn't any trouble..."

"Oh, not at all! I told you; I'm _insufferably_ bored... Be over in a moment." Then her head disappeared from the fire, while the School's Headmaster moved away, back over to his desk.

Once there, Dumbledore waved his wand before him, muttering something under his breath before pointing to the vacant space in front of his desk. There, another chair appeared.

A moment later, the fire roared in a violet display of bright-green flames, before receding to reveal the witch the Headmaster had called a few moments before. She was a tiny thing, barely five feet tall, with long white hair done up atop her head and held their by many strings of pale blue beads, which made her bright, sparklingly eyes all the more noticeable, set in withered face. She had undoubtedly been lovely in her youth, but that beauty had mostly faded away, to be replaced by elegance. "Good morning," she smiled to all of them, apparently not the least bit concerned by Professor Snape's withering look. 

"Please, have a seat," Dumbledore gestured to the seat he'd just made, smiling as he turned his attention to the Order members, who were still sitting in curious silence. "This is Althea Vatis, a seer, who has been my friend for many years. She once served as Hogwarts Divination Professor, although I believe she retired at the end of your first year, Minerva, so none of you would recognize her."

"No," Professor McGonagall shook her head, "but you do look familiar, it's a pleasure to meet you, Professor."

"Oh, none of that, my dear," the seer shook her head, "I haven't been a professor in over thirty years. No, just Althea, or 'Thea, if you prefer, please." She smiled as she sat down. "So how is Hogwarts nowadays?"

"Well enough," the Headmaster replied, before sighing. "The Ministry has been becoming rather bothersome. How have you been?"

"Bored." She replied easily, before suddenly smiling. "Although this summer was rather interesting, I must say."

"How so?" Dumbledore inquired, undoubtedly wondering if she was referring to Voldemort's return, although that seemed unlikely. Althea came from a very long line of dedicated Light followers. Therefore, the rise of a Dark Lord wouldn't be something she'd be pleased by...

"Why, Mr. Potter's adventure, of course." 

~ * ~

"He's _not **there**_, Hermione!" the redhead repeated, for what could very well be the hundredth time in the last half hour.

"Oh, Ron," the Gryffindor genius shook her head amusedly, "what does it matter? So maybe he left early for breakfast. Why would that matter?"

"He left early?" Ron blinked, apparently confused by the concept. "Why? They don't serve any earlier then when we usually leave...that's why we leave then."

Hermione rolled her eyes, before turning her attention to Neville, who'd just come through the portrait hole, apparently returning from breakfast. "Good morning, Neville."

"Morning, Hermione, Ron," their year mate replied, nodding to them as he raised his hand to cover a yawn as he made his way towards the boys dormitories. 

"Hey, Neville," Ron called, stopping his room mate, "did you see Harry down at breakfast?"

Neville frowned, considering it, before shaking his head. "No, I don't think so, Ron. There weren't that many people down there. But a lot of people came in when I was leaving, so he might've been there. But I didn't see him."

"Alright, thanks, Neville," Hermione nodded to him, smiling pleasantly. The smile faded once the boy was out of sight. "So he's not at breakfast, then..."

"_See!_" Ron insisted, "I _knew_ something was wrong!"

The brunette rolled her eyes, "Don't jump to conclusions, Ron. Maybe he went to the library, to study."

"I know Harry changed a bit this summer, 'Mione," Ron replied, shaking his head. "But he's _not_ _you_.... And besides, I thought we weren't allowed in there before Madam Pince has finished her breakfast?"

"Oh, that's right," Hermione nodded, "I'd forgotten that most people weren't."

"I take it you are, then?"

The girl didn't reply, as she was apparently turning ideas over in her head while she made her way out of the common room. Ron followed her, waiting for whatever idea she came up with next. If there was anyone that could solve this mystery, it'd be Hermione.

She stopped so abruptly that Ron nearly ran into her.

He took a step back as she turned towards him. "What?"

"Ron...Did you try the Marauders Map?" 

~ * ~

"Be termarale mae le, melda nin?" {Are you feeling better, beloved?}

Harry smiled as he turned from the view of the lake to the no less breathtaking view of his treasured wife. "Tuure…" {Much...} he nodded, while gesturing to the seat beside him on the balcony.

But the Elf shook her head, smiling slightly. "The _Ar-Feiniel_ just brought breakfast for us. We shouldn't let it go to waste."

"Laa," the wizard agreed, rising and taking hold of the hand she offered.

The pair made their way inside, and both had to shake their heads at the small banquet that awaited them. They'd already found that asking the House Elves to 'not go overboard' really didn't do much good. The 'little dears', as Violet sometimes referred to them, loved work _far_ too much...

Both knew that there wasn't any way they could eat all of the food that had been prepared for them. And they would feel bad for sending a lot of it back, but really, what else could they do?

As they sat down next to each other, and began filling their plates, Harry turned upon hearing a sigh from his partner. "Melda nin?" he inquired, frowning in concern as he poured a glass of grape juice for her, then one for himself. "Man ta raika?" {What's wrong?}

"Ilnat," {Nothing,} she shook her head, smiling slightly as she met his eyes. "Na nin er noale siman kena Rúmil ar Camthalion luu enyala..." {I was just wondering if we'd see Rúmil and Camthalion any time soon...}

"They have seen twenty-two centuries, and more then a half of their twenty-third. They are not children, my love." Harry commented lightly, while he unhurriedly poured a healthy helping of thick maple syrup on his pancakes, inadvertently mimicking the way his foster-mother had educated him in the art of tipping water into her mirror, long ago.

"I know…" The violet-eyed lady sighed once again, nodding her thanks as she accepted the vessel, to douse her own breakfast with the sweet substance. 

They sat there for some time after that, eating in silence. They had much to discuss, but debate, they knew, was rarely fruitful when carried out on a whim. What was to be said needed to be charily considered before being brought into the open. It was this keen patience that often made Elves seem so much wiser then mortals, for it was a insight that only time and the experiences it wrought could teach, and this was a patience that only those who are accustom to the concept of eternal life, could wield. 

~ * ~

"Pardon?" Dumbledore blinked, the frown on his face mirrored almost universally around the room.

"Mr. Potter's journey..." the Seer blinked, frowning. "He didn't _tell_ you?"

"No," the Headmaster's frown deepened, "I was under the impression that, aside from his family's move to the city, Mr. Potter's summer was quite uneventful."

"Indeed..." Vatis sighed, shaking her head. "Well, that certainly complicates things..."

"How so?" Mrs. Weasley inquired, obviously worried.

The seer sighed again. "If he's chosen to leave you unaware of his… new abilities, it is not my place to say...."

"Why?" Professor Snape demanded, "He's just a br--child. If he's hiding something, we should know."

Vatis laughed, rising. "Well, that's the thing, you see. He's _not_ a child anymore..._far_ _from_ _it_..." she offered them a deep nod, before making her way over to the fireplace, and taking a handful of Floo powder from the dish on the mantle. "And I'm afraid I can't offer you anymore help then that..." the Seer told them, as she tossed the powder onto the fire, before stepping into it. "_Vatis Mansion_."

And in a blast of green flame, she was gone. 

~ * ~

"Mortality…" The younger of the Míriel twins' shook his head. "Mortality… Who would've thought that it could be something that _simple?!_"

Camthalion shrugged. "It is quite clever, considering our peoples outlook on life and whatnot. I highly doubt anyone who hadn't befriended mortals, or spent time around Elerossë before, would have even come close… Though death might've been a good answer too…"

"Death and mortality technically aren't the same thing though, right?" Rúmil offered, shaking his head as he and his brother trailed after the sphinx whose riddle they were currently discussing. "It doesn't take the full picture into consideration." 

"Uma…" his brother nodded, his eyes not straying from the sphinx. She was keeping the same steady, monotonous pace she'd held for the last few hours, but he didn't want to risk losing sight of her. Not when they were so close to attaining their goal. 

And indeed, their objective was not far off at all, as they realized only moments later, upon reaching the shores of a lake. This was no ordinary lake, they would know that even if they sphinx had not led them here.  To call this lake ordinary would be akin to calling the Golden Wood a typically wooded area. 

The shimmering, silvery water was inexplicably placid, a portrait of serenity far too perfect to be of its own accord. The facsimile of Varda's fruit could be seen gracing the surface of the lake with golden hews even as it was truly set in the darkening sky. In the center of the lake, a small island resided, boasting silvery trees alien to those across the water from themselves, where the newcomers stood.

Their guide nodded to the island, while gracefully moving into the elegant pose Egyptian architects had ordered impersonated centuries before. "_ Andon dio Tinda Orne_, the Isle of the Silver Trees, the lone entrance to the Elven realm of this world."

"So we just have to get over to that island, and there'll be doorway waiting there for us?" Rúmil inquired, skepticism obvious in both his stance and tone.

"No," the Sphinx offered that same, mysterious and somewhat unsettling smile, once again. She looked down at the ground between her paws, which then began to glow. When it faded, a relatively large emerald rested there. She nodded to it, before looking over at the isle once again. "There you will find a puzzle, one which is nearly whole, but missing this piece. Once whole, it will function much like the Portkeys the mortal men of magic in this world are so fond of."

"So we have to complete the puzzle…" Camthalion summarized, nodding towards the gem, "by adding that to it."

She continued, taking no notice of his query. "When the dusk's last rays reach the lake, the bridge to the isle shall appear, you will have mere moments to set foot upon it, for only those who have seen it appear may walk it."

"Ok…" Rumil nodded, "the bridge is here, then?" he inquired, knowing that she'd vowed to guide them to the gate, so it only made sense that she'd brought them to the right place.

Once again, their guide merely nodded, her eyes still on the scenery, or more precisely, on the setting sun.

"Is there anything else?" Camthalion asked, as he and his brother followed here example, in watching the sun sink into the horizon.

"The gateway shall be open when the moon does not dwarf the stars in splendor." She offered before nodding to bridge that suddenly appeared before them, flickering in the twilight. "Now go."

After grabbing the puzzle piece she'd given them, they did as she'd bidden them. Their natural speed, honed into a powerful asset by centuries of training and use, easily granting them the time to set foot on the bridge before true twilight set in, and the bridge was unseen once more.

"Best of luck, fair ones…" The sphinx offered quietly, her human side suddenly giving the impression of being far more earthly as she offered a warmer smile, while watching the two elves run towards the island, their feet never hitting the surface of the water they seemed to be running on. 

~ * ~

"Should we tell them?"

Harry was drawn out of his inner musings for the first time in the last twenty minutes by his wife's question. He glanced over at her once again, "The _Kala O'laisi_?"

"No," Violet shook her head, "Just Hermione, Ron…and perhaps Malfoy…"

"Hmm, perhaps…" he raised an eyebrow, "What brought this on, if I may ask? The Valar know I'd love to be able to tell my loved ones, but…"

"They're your best friends, Harry. And we'll probably need their help in keeping the members of the DA from becoming suspicious."

"Well, I highly doubt being friendly towards Malfoy could make us look any less suspicious, but that is true…" Galadriel's foster son nodded. 

His Elven companion snorted softly, "Please tell me that you aren't holding on to such childish _grudges_ after so many centuries of tutelage under my uncle, Lord Elrond _and_ the Lady's auspice."

"Hardly," the wizard laughed. "If I were, do you really think I would have welcomed him, even with reservations, to the DA. And my fifteen-year-old self would _never_ have even _thought_ of inviting Draco Malfoy in for tea."

"That is true…" Violet smiled slightly in relief, before allowing her face to return to its more serious composure. She was silent for several moments before she turned her namesake gaze back to him. "Do you want to hide, my love?" the Elven maiden inquired softly, holding his gaze gently, but nonetheless completely. 

That was one of striking psychological feats he'd noticed many of his foster kin were capable of, an amazing ability to hold the attention of others; _absolutely_, without seeming to take any freedoms away from their captives. The propensity was more noticeable among the Elven ladies, but many males made good use of their starlit gazes as well. It was a skill that he himself now possessed, though many had told him he'd already been capable of it long before coming to them, they'd just helped bring it out. He didn't really believe that could be true…regardless of the fact that everyone who had told him such ranked very highly in his regard. 

"Of course not," he shook his head firmly, an action that he hoped would show his response just as much as it forced his mind back to the present. After a moment, he sighed. "It's just…I don't know how to explain it…It's…"

"Complicated?" Violate offered with an amused grin. 

The wizard considered this a moment, before nodding. "Yes…it's like…" he shook his head once again. "They're my childhood, and though they're still very dear to me--"

"It's not the same," the Elven maiden nodded, before bringing his hands together wither her smaller, more delicate pair. "You grew up far away from them, with nothing but memories of a few cherished, but nonetheless _short_ years…What makes matters worse is that those years, not even half a decade, took place nearly three millennia past in your mind, millennia that were mere months to them." She shook her head, bringing one of her gentle hands up to the side of his face. "Of course it's hard…"

One of her hands moved to the back of his head, just below the dark hairline. At the same time, her other hand still held one of his prisoner between their hearts as she gracefully ascended onto the tips of her toes to kiss him. It wasn't passionate; it was chaste and sweet. It was a kiss that did exactly what it was intended to do; comfort and reassure.

She pulled away a moment later, though only a few spare inches/centimeters now separated them. "And I'm here to help, melda nin. We did not come to make this harder for you…"

"I know…" Harry replied quietly. 

Given the choice, they might have stayed there for quite some time afterward. Or they may very well have chosen to express their lover for each other once again. As it was, they didn't get the chance. They moved apart quickly, Violet turning around to look at what her husband could already see, as they heard the door to the room click shut softly.

"Well_,_" silver-gray eyes slid over them carefully, taking in their still clasped hands and slightly rumpled appearances. "_This_ is certainly interesting…"

Harry sighed quietly, exchanging a glance with his wife before looking back to the elegantly robed blonde that was leaning almost lazily back against the door. The Valar, they thought, certainly had to have a unique sense of humor, considering the fact that of all the people they could choose, Draco Malfoy had to be first…

**_End of Chapter 9._**

**Translations:**

_Vatis _- a prophet/seer or a bard/poet

_Andon dio Tinda Orne_ - Great Gate of the Silver Trees

**AN:**** Well, looks like they'll have to be here again. FF.net Administration said we're not allowed to put them in separate updates, which is really stupid, but, oh well... **

**REVIEW RESPONSES (from Chapter 8):**

     **Jessyka** - Yes, it would be, wouldn't it? ^_^     

     **Rachel A. Prongs** - Thank you. I know… ^_^

     **A-man** - LOL, thank you. 

*shrugs* That happens…and with my updating schedule (or lack there of), it's not hard to do, I'm sure. 

^_^* LOL, you have to remember; this _is_ a LotRs/HP crossover still. The scenes from Middle Earth usually show one of two things: 

1. What's happening there/How far along the story is

2. The relationship between the two world à time-wise = there is none. 

Of course, sometimes they're just fillers, but they do have a general purpose…

Thank you, I'll try to update sooner…the next ones already half way there! (It was origionally going to be part of this chapter, but this cliffhanger was _far_ to nice to pass up. ^_^ )

     **Jewel Gardens** - *sigh* I wouldn't use it, if I could find a more complete source (dictionary-format) for _Tolkien's_ version…but I can't. I've been trying to cut back a bit, though.

*makes a face* I read the beginning of it…then my brother wanted to borrow it…then my sister-in-law…then her friend…now my mom has it…I'm not entirely sure she's even reading it devotedly, but I can't find it (she hid it…we do stuff like that…) But it's getting a bit annoying…I'll probably go out and buy a 2nd copy soon. It certainly looks fabulous…Though I probably won't be able to read it until near the end of next month. I have exams coming up…ugh…

:-D Thank you! :-D

**     Sirius22** - Thanks, I'm glad you like it. ^_^

LOL…Yes, that _will_ be interesting…LOL…

*smirks* It's not as far off as you might think…The last (pure) LotRs scene I showed, was when Gandalf fought (and lost to) Saruman. Therefore, if I want to get HP involved with the LotRs storyline, I don't have a lot of time…

**     Phoenix Flight **- I'm glad. ^_^

*sigh* I know…I had actually thought of that a while back, but you're the first person to mention it here…I've been too lazy to do back and change it here (plus FF.net hasn't been working all that well…) I'll eventually go back and edit the previous chapters, but for now, if you read the story in some of the newer fan fiction sites (so far, just forever fandom,) the title's been changed.

  
     **Rum n'Coke **- Thank you, I'm glad…

*sigh* I'm trying to fix that… I've been following a timeline someone else wrote (and posted online), which, in retrospect, doesn't make much sense…

Translations? There all over the place, online. Just run a search. It can be a lot of fun…Pure Tolkien Elvish is _hard_ to find, though…

**     Julian1** - *BLUSHES* Thank you very, very much. I'm glad you like it so much… ^_^

Sorry about the wait. -_-* 

**     ArwenMGranger** - Thanks ^_^

LOL, I know, that was kind of the point. 

**     Raclswt **- I'm glad. ^_^

LOL, that wouldn't be very surprising, would it? 

**     Rogue1615** - *shrugs* No biggie…

Yup! Yup! ^_^*

*sighs* *looks up at response to A-man* *highlights* *copies* *pastes:*

You have to remember; this _is_ a LotRs/HP crossover still. The scenes from Middle Earth usually show one of two things: 

1. What's happening there/How far along the story is

2. The relationship between the two world à time-wise = there is none. 

Of course, _sometimes_ they're just fillers, but they _do_ have a general purpose…

No, it isn't all that fair, is it? But, then again, it wouldn't have been fair for her to hold him back to her world when she knew long before she fell in love with him (and while she was falling in love with him, etc.,) that he planned to go back to his (mortal) world… *shrugs* That's all I'll say on the matter now.

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^  
  


**     Hoshi-tachi **- ^_^* really, I don't mind… I like reviews of all kind! …well, with the obvious exception of flames…I don't like those…Anyway…

You can? Really? That's awful! *sigh* I hope you can't sympathize with her for _too_ long…

*Smirks* Yes, that will definitely be fun.  
  


Usually I wouldn't answer a plot question directly, but I truly believe that deserves a flat out _no_.  
  


**     Maggie** - LOL, that's good to hear.   
  


Umm…#1 that should be in the next chapter… #2 Harry is almost _3000_ years older then them…not 20…^_^*   
  


*cough**cough* I'll keep that in mind for a later date…though I agree, it could be funny…it doesn't fit with the plot _quite_ yet… #1 They couldn't have had children on Middle Earth, because of the curse. #2…They haven't had much of a chance here…#3 Neither are irresponsible enough for that to happen unintentionally…   
  


**     Lady PhoenixFyre** - That's good to hear, thank you. ^_^

Oh yes, I plan on continuing for at least several chapters (I still have at least a dozen chapters outlined.)

Hmm…I hadn't thought of FictionAlley.org…I didn't know they were open to crossovers…I signed up this afternoon, and I'm going to try and post the prologue (to this fic) after I post it on FF.net…Once I figure how to the sight itself _works!_ It looks great so far. Thanks for recommending it. (And, of course, reviewing! Reviews are (almost) always good!) ^_^

**     Enya the Fairy Queen** - Hello. ^_^

*sigh* Yes, I'm continueing… I have almost the entire fic mapped out. So it's not a matter of whether or not I'm continuing, it's a matter of when I'll get the time to write, edit, re-edit, reply to reviews, and post… Unfortunately, I have school on week days, and work on weekends…So I don't have a lot of time on my hands. To make matters worse, March is exam month…ugh…

LOL, actually, that was a good idea for this chapter. It was origionally much longer, but I decided that shortening it was probably a good idea…

Thank you, I'm glad you like it so much. ^_^

**Thanks to****: **

**Star estrella**

**Stayblue******

**Insanechildfanfic**

**Makoto-18 **

**RickW22**

**Possesed Angel**

**HAZZAGRIFF**

**Arensia**

**Kateydidnt**

**Litine**

**Just annother stupid idiot **

**AN****: Hmm, twenty-seven reviews, not bad…Of course, the last chapter received fifty, but you can't win them all I suppose.**

**As I told a few of you, I have exams coming up, which means updates may be fewer and farther between then usual, but reviews would definitely help. I don't like exams or studying for them…so encouragement would really be appreciate in both that and the work I do manage to put into my fics. Thank you.**

**Bye! ^_^**

~ **Jess S**


	11. Chapter 10: Marta, Part I

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

**

* * *

AN: **

**1. I realized while writing this chapter that the timeline I've been following was _really_ erroneous…. I was lazy, I didn't bother researching the timeline I found on a site, and it made sense, so I've been following that… Technically some of the events are _very_ off time-wise, please ignore it. (I also like Harry being over 2000 years old, so I don't want to change it….) Put it off as AU, creative license, whatever… Thanks! **

**2. I also happened upon another reference to Galadriel and Celeborn being King and Queen of Lothlórien. I know a number of people have objected to my calling them that, but I am going to from now on. The reference is: (_Tolkien: The Illustrated Encyclopedia, Page 249_). I consider that cannon, as it was made from research of Tolkien's work. If you don't like that, I'm sorry, but this is my story, and I have every right to use it. Thank you. **

**Ok… I'm done. Enjoy the chapter! ****Jess S**

* * *

**There and Back Again**

_**Chapter 10: Marta, Part I**_

By Jess S

Harry eyed the young wizard speculatively. He'd known that he would eventually have to tell his childhood relations of his new self, though he could honestly say he'd never thought he might start with Malfoy, but then, he didn't have to. One quick, precise obliviation and Draco Malfoy would forget all about what he'd just seen…

But was that what he wanted?

Was Ránëwén right? Was he intentionally, albeit subconsciously, _hiding?_

He didn't think so…but then, who could tell? His Elven wife knew him better then anyone - for _obvious_ reasons - and if she thought he wanted to hide…well there was a very good chance that at least a part of him did…

But he _didn't_ want to…which meant they had to start with telling someone…and Malfoy was probably the one, out of the DA, at least, that would become suspicious first - being a Slytherin, he'd be at least a few steps ahead of Hermione - so he _was_ actually a good place to start.

"Draco," Harry nodded, careful to keep his tone and expression neutral. "Would you care to join us for morning tea? Perhaps a spot of breakfast?"

* * *

The Malfoy Household's heir blinked, but other then that showed no signs of any sort of surprise. After a moment, he nodded and made his way over to the table they'd been standing near; a table that was still laden with and extraordinary about of food.

Nonetheless, it was relatively clean. Obviously at least one of the house elves had been at work while he and Ránëwén had been talking. Their breakfast plates were clean and reset, just like everything else. And a third place setting was waiting for them when they reached the table.

After sitting down, the blonde raised a speculative eyebrow as the Gryffindor wizard held the Elf-maiden's chair for her. He continued to watch the other wizard as he made his way to the final setting, which was right next from the Elf.

Harry offered him a pleasant - meant to be disarming - smile, gesturing to the food before picking up the steaming teapot that had just appeared before him and beginning to fill Violet's cup. "Help yourself…"

'_Oh, that's how it's going to be, is it?_' Draco Malfoy realized speculatively.

He wasn't a stranger to games of power. He was both a Slytherin and a Malfoy, after all. This was a game he'd been born into, and raised to play.

'_But Potter wasn't…_' he carefully suppressed a frown, turning his own teacup right side up, to indicate his preference of beverage, before beginning to move food onto his plate. He hadn't had breakfast yet, instead choosing to come directly here after receiving his father's letter.

There wasn't any real way he could have know whether or not Potter would be here at the time, but he'd suspected that he would be. And if he hadn't been, well, Draco didn't have any problem with asking the Elf to relay the message. It would only give him a little more time to research her, after all.

That had all changed when he'd entered the room though…

He hadn't heard much, but they had been in a rather intimate position…and they'd obviously been talking about something important, and were as of yet unaware of what he'd heard.

Well he wasn't going to tell them. He wasn't _stupid_. He'd learn _far_ more if he just listened to them try to figure out what he _had_ heard.

* * *

To say that Ránëwén Galathil of Lothlórien was amused would have been a severe understatement. No, _amusement_ didn't cover her view of her husband's interaction with his childhood rival…

She knew that this _was_ serious, but it wasn't anywhere _near_ as serious as some of the more perilous positions they'd been in before… Even this child, who was both clever and magically gifted, wasn't a hazard when compared to the plights that plagued her homeland.

What's more, this was the perfect opportunity for Harry to get everything (or at least most of it) out into the open. She didn't like all of this secrecy. She understood where some of it was necessary, but much of it could be avoided.

It wasn't that she wasn't used to being kept from him. No, Ránëwén knew that feeling _far_ too well. She hadn't met him when he'd first come to her people. No, she'd been staying with her mother's kin in Imladris. The Elf-maiden had, of course, heard about him. All of the nobility had. It wasn't every day that the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood fostered a son, after all. Of course, she would've heard of him anyway, as she was one of Arwen Undómiel's closest friends. And the Evenstar had been there when he'd arrived. So, while it was kept secret, all of the Galadhrim and the Elven aristocracy, bar a few, had been well aware of his existence.

That had only added to her anticipation of reaching the Golden Wood when she'd gone homeward bound. But, to her disappointment, she hadn't gotten the chance to meet him then. He'd already left to see the world, under her dear uncle's guardianship, no less.

Harry hadn't returned to the Golden Wood until just after the fifth century of the Third Age began, and by that time she'd already returned to Imladris to conclude her instruction in the Elven customs of nobility, with Arwen. That wasn't uncommon. Some children didn't like to study something on their own, so it wasn't unusual for a parent to receive a request for their child to join another for tutelage. The request had, of course, gone to Haldir, because both of her parent's were already dead at the time.

For those reasons, Ránëwén had never been allowed the chance to meet him until 965 TA. It was then that she'd returned to Lothlórien, a mature, and fully educated Elven lady.

It'd come as more then a bit of a shock when she met her soul mate only moments after returning to the Galadhrim, and found that he was none other then the Galadriel's foster-son, and therefore Prince of the Galadhrim...

Harry had at first been delighted by the bond as she had. Soul bonds, the peculiar links that made people aware of their true soul mate, were a rare blessing, and one that all Elves adored. However, he'd quickly come to realize that if they married, Ron, Hermione, Ginny…and all of his friends from his youth, the people he'd always expected to see at his wedding, wouldn't be there. This caused him to fall into a state of uncertainty; he simply didn't know how to go on with their relationship. So the young prince had decided to go wandering again, to give both of them time to think about it...

The ninety-one years he spent in Imladris, the Shire, Gondor, Isengard and many places in between had been sheer torture for both of them. He'd kept wandering aimlessly, trying to find a purpose that might make resisting the pull bearable, but he hadn't been able to. Even fighting alongside a king in war and somehow gaining access to the oldest records of the Istari arts hadn't helped him last long.

After all his journeying, Harry had returned to Lothlórien in 809 with a heavy heart... still not sure if he was ready to face her, his soul mate, and reached the Galadhrim only to discover that she'd left for Imladris once again, a short time before.

Ránëwén, herself, had managed to last much longer. She had been only nine years short of eleven hundred years. She'd spent the time helping Arwen and had even visited Eryn Lasgalen, the realm of King Thranduil.

The Greenwood's Prince had been off adventuring somewhere when she'd been a guest in his homeland. They had actually already met, in Imladris, but they hadn't happened upon any real opportunities for conversation during his short visit. She had hoped to give him another chance, as Arwen, and both sets of twins, Arwen's brothers and Ránëwén's cousins, got on so well with him. But she'd only been there a short time before Thranduil had managed to talk her into accompanying him to the Lothlórien.

After some discussion, they finally determined that their bond was very real, and agreed to wed. That had result in one of the greatest celebrations the Golden Wood had ever seen. No one could find any objections to the union, and no one wanted to. So it hadn't been long before they were ready for Galadriel to perform the elvish wedding ceremony.

Most of the Galadhrim had remained outside the Grove during the ceremony, waiting to congratulate them afterwards. Only eleven individuals had witnessed the wedding itself; Lady Galadriel, who had performed the ceremony, Lord Celeborn, Haldir, who had escorted her to the ceremony in her father's place, Lord Elrond, Arwen, Elrohir, Elladan, Rúmil and Camthalion; who, as Violet's second cousins, were her closest living relatives after her uncle, Lord Glorfindel a distant relation on her mother's side, and King Thranduil.

The Elf smiled softly as she thought back to that day. Even now, more then five centuries later, it remained the happiest day of her life. At that time, there hadn't seemed to be any problem they could not overcome, together. Everyone had been so happy…

**_

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_**

_There are few things that can compare to an Elven bonding ceremony in magnificence and optimism. Elven celebrations were always beautiful in their own right, a combination of the people's fairness, their charming clothes, correlation with nature, and fondness for light. But, there was something that set a bonding apart._

_It wasn't just the rareness of such an occasion…. When a bonding rite was completed, it was cause for all who know of it to rejoice. This ceremony was the creation of a bond that would last throughout all of eternity, so long as the bearers remained loyal to the light…_

_"Though I wish Legolas could've seen this, I-Eryn Lasgalen horta maar merne." The Wood of Green-leaves sends its good wishes. King Thranduil sighed, before offering both of them a kind smile. "I am pleased for both of you, and wish you the best of luck."_

_"Hannon le…" The newlywed's murmured quietly, offering reticent, but nonetheless pleased smiles._

_"To show our appreciation of this union," Thranduil continued, nodding to one of the maids that came with him for the occasion, causing her to approach, and elegantly crafted box in her possession. "We offer this gift."_

_Both smiled, and Ránëwén accepted the box when the maid stopped in front of her. After receiving a nod and a warm smile from her new husband, she carefully opened the box, and gasped. _

_Inside were two **gorgeous** crowns of Elanor and Lissium blossoms._

_If they'd been thinking analytically, they might've wondered how the Elves of the Greenwood came upon so many 'star-sun' blossoms, the fair winter flowers that only grew in the Golden Wood, but then again, this was a long-established gift for wedding ceremonies, so it wouldn't have been surprising if the Lord and Lady had donated them for the task. _

_The sweet-smelling Lissium and the golden, star-shaped Elanor were among the most beautiful flowers of Middle Earth, most of which the Eldar had brought with them, as gifts to the mortals, when they first started coming to Middle Earth from Valinor. _

_The aromatic Lissium' and the starflowers were long used by the Elves to weaved garlands meant to be worn as crowns at the celebratory banquet that followed the wedding. More often than not, the bride's family prepared the coronets, but it wasn't unusual for the rulers of another Elven Kingdom to weave them in appreciation for the good fortune of another Kingdom's rulers. _

_While Harry wasn't a Galadhrim prince by birth, he was still the Galadhrim's Prince in the hearts of all his people, so this occasion certainly counted. What's more, it was easy to recognize how important this was to the rulers of the Golden Wood. Since the tragedy that had quickly resulted in their daughter's early departure for the Undying Lands, they had essentially been childless. _

_Oh, they did have Arwen, Elladen and Elrohir, but they were there grandchildren…it wasn't quite the same. What's more, Arwen could only stay here so long, and Elladen and Elrohir hardly ever had time to visit…they still felt too much pain at the loss of their mother to visit their grandparents, who so closely resembled her. Princess Celebrían had been their daughter in every way, and it was just too painful for the twins to be near them when they felt that they had yet to avenge their mother's 'death'. They had, of course, come to this ceremony, but they wouldn't remain any longer then they usually did…_

_Harry had arrived a short year after Celebrían's departure, and had been quickly accepted into the Galadriel and Celeborn's house, as the son they'd never had. Technically, though, Elrond was a son to them, as their son-in-law, not quite the same thing, but close. And today was special to them for that reason. Today, they accepted a new daughter in to their home and hearts…_

_It wouldn't be easy, she knew. She'd been very young when Lady Celebrían had left these shores, but she still remembered the princess's innate grace and beauty. She had been a true lady. Everything about her defined the title. Ránëwén knew she didn't really stand a chance of meeting the standard the true Princess of Lothlórien had set, long ago. But she would do her best to help her people, her in laws, and her husband…there was little more she could do…_

**_

* * *

End of Flashback

* * *

_******

"Well…?"

Violet blinked, brought out of her reverie by the young wizard's breaking of the silence. She picked up the teapot and carefully poured each of them a cup of the Elven brew (she'd given some to the House Elves, to be served for them), while he looked at them.

"Well what, Draco?" Harry asked, nodding his thanks to his wife as she set the teapot down, before taking his teacup in hand and taking a slow, soothing draught.

The Slytherin, rather uncharacteristically, snorted. "You _know_ what, Potter. Even Gryffindors aren't _that_ thick."

Harry released a soft, amused laugh. "Indeed…" after taking another sip of his tea, he raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"

"What the hell's going on?!" Draco growled, glaring at the raven-haired wizard. "I have every right to. I've been straight forward with both of you, it's hardly fair for you to refuse to do the same!"

"_**He has a point,**_ melda nin." Violet offered quietly, continuing to stir her tea half-mechanically, as she'd been doing for the last few minutes, while watching the exchange.

"_**He does…**_" Harry agreed with a sigh, bringing his teacup up once again, this time choosing to drain the two-thirds of the cup that were left.

Draco blinked, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Huh?"

"You're right," Harry offered, his voice far more neutral than one might expect. After all, this was _Harry Potter_ admitting to _Draco Malfoy_ that the other was right…something that under different circumstances -- a year past, perhaps -- _never_ would've happened. After another moment's silence, Harry opened his mouth, presumably to continue. But then, he stopped, and closed his mouth before turning his head slightly towards the door.

Violet blinked in surprise. Now that he'd actually drawn her attention to it, she could hear, and feel, someone…no…two people, approaching; something she hadn't been even slightly aware of a mere moment prior. That wasn't like her. Indeed, it was very unusual for _any_ elf to be so unaware of the surroundings… Perhaps this magical, mortal world was affecting her more then she'd thought…then again, she was only an Elven lady, and had no where near the training in combat that her husband possessed.

She was forced from her worried thoughts when the door to the Room of Requirement slammed open, and Ron and Hermione skidded to a halt, panting. Apparently they'd run all they way here from a considerable distance. A puzzled frown crossed her fair features a moment later, when she noticed the strange piece of parchment clutched tightly in the young redhead's fist. Violet could _sense_ the magic that was an intricate part of it, but she couldn't really tell what it was for…

* * *

"Is i--" Ron stopped short, his eyes locking on the blonde wizard seated at the breakfast table with them. "_Malfoy!_ What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm eating breakfast, Weasley."

Hermione cut in before the two could start arguing. "Harry, V-Violet…Is it _true?_"

Harry frowned, "Is _what_ true?"

"Is Violet really your _wife?_" the brunette demanded.

For a moment the blonde Slytherin stared at her in open shock, before bursting out laughing. It was a few moments before he was able to get a hold of himself once more. "That's a good one, Granger! Potter, _married?_ He's _only_ fifteen, just like the rest of us… And open… _affection_ doesn't necessarily constitute marriage…"

"Yes, yes, and no." Harry's quiet murmur cut the appending argument off before it had begun, and drew the stares off all three teens to him.

"What?" Ron inquired, openly puzzled.

"I was just answering your questions, disagreeing with one part of Malfoy's statement, and agreeing with another. "Yes, it's true. Yes, Violet is my wife. And no, I am no longer fifteen."

* * *

"Well," Severus Snape's sarcastic drawl brought an end to the state of stunned silence that had held the room for several moments past. "That was certainly _helpful…_"

For once, Sirius Black made no effort to disagree with the Slytherin Head, instead choosing to demand an end to the confusion the Seer had caused. "What in Merlin's name did she _mean?_"

"I do not know," Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head as everyone turned to him for an explanation. "As far as I knew, there had been nothing unusual about Harry's summer prior to his family's move into the city."

"He's different, though," Remus murmured, shaking his head. "We all know that… She said he'd no longer a child, and, in a way, I think we all sensed that…"

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "He matured a great deal, and managed to reign in his growing temper…" she shook her head, "I was honestly expecting that he would have a great deal of trouble this year, due to the events of the last, the Ministry, the press and whatnot. But… it doesn't seem to affect him _at all_. And he's excelling in all of his classes…even _you_ have to admit that," she finished, nodding to the Potions Master, whose angular face bore a familiar scowl.

"Indeed…"

"Perhaps we should review what little she said?" Kingsley Shacklebolt offered, shrugging his shoulders. "We might be able to pick something out of it."

"True, true," the Hogwarts' Headmaster nodded, frowning slightly. "She wasn't here long but, from what I can recall, she mentioned much that may be of interest to us."

"Potter went on a excursion somewhere, during this past summer, that we were ignorant of." Snape began with a nod.

The Gryffindor Head continued, "It changed him…"

"He's chosen not to tells us about it," Tonks, whose hair was currently a peculiar shade of green, down to her shoulders.

Remus nodded in agreement, "And because of that, something is stopping Ms. Vatis from telling us…or she simply isn't willing to."

"Which really doesn't make sense, considering how fond Seers generally are of talking about things they've 'Seen'." Shacklebolt offered, and several people rolled their eyes in agreement.

"Which points to the fact that she may have made it up," Professor McGonagall pointed out.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "Althea is not like most Seer's. She has a great deal more power then most, and is honest to a fault, it would go against her very nature to have pulled that degree of treachery on us…"

"Which is why she left, she didn't want to be cornered into lying." Snape realized.

"Yes," the Headmaster nodded in agreement.

"She said he's not a child anymore…far from it…what'd that mean?" Sirius inquired, his voice somewhat choked. "I know he's been through a lot, but…he's still only _fifteen!_"

"Maybe not…" Everyone turned to look at Alastor Moody. "Maybe that's what she was saying…not only does he have new abilities, he has experience, too…He's not fifteen anym--"

"That's **_impossible_**" Sirius broke in with growl. "Even if he went to someplace where time passes differently…Then…Then he wouldn't _look_ like he was fifteen, he--"

"He doesn't…" Tonks shook her head when they all looked at her. "That's what you all said after you'd had supper with him this summer. "He looks and acts older…Maybe he _is_…"

"But how much older?" Her commander murmured, easily following her train of thought.

* * *

"You…you're not?" Hermione blinked at him dazedly, frowning. "B-But…you…_How?_"

Harry offered a small laugh, shaking his head bemusedly. "I'm afraid that tale will take much more time then we have, but I can give you the basics of it," he waved to the table, where two more place setting had, at some point in time, appeared. "If you'll join us for breakfast…"

After a moment's hesitation, both Gryffindors made there way over to the table, and Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron made rather obvious efforts to be as far away from Draco Malfoy as was humanly possible.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione demanded after a moment's silence.

"Tea?" the green-eyed wizard inquired with a winsome smile, gesturing to the tea set and the teacups in front of them. Then he sighed as both responded with similar glares. "If you're going to be like this, there isn't much incentive for me to tell you anything."

The youngest of the Weasley brothers immediately protested, "We're your best friends!"

"You're acting more like antagonists than friends, at the moment," Malfoy offered with a down toned version of his usual smirk, obviously his heart wasn't in it.

"And what is _he_ doing here?" Ron demanded, glaring at the blonde. "He--" the redhead stop as the Violet began speaking in Elvish.

"Er'hyn nyarya, melda nin." Just tell them, beloved.

Harry sighed, meeting his wife's twilight shaded eyes. Technically she was a year younger that he was, but it rarely seemed like that. She was always the wiser, elder one. Particularly when matters of the heart were involved. "Be iest lîn," He conceded, turning to meet two blatantly probing gazes, and one that was still reasonably curious. "A great deal has happened to me…since the end of the last school year."

"Because of the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Ron queried.

Harry almost shook his head, but then frowned, considering it. After a moment, the head shake did come, "No, not really."

"How did you learn Elvish?" Hermione demanded when he appeared to be drifting off into thought.

"Pardon?" Harry blinked at her.

"I've been trying to study it since the last D.A. meeting, it's one of the languages we've been studying in Ancient Runes, and even _with_ Professor Erilis's help, it's one of the most difficult languages we've come across! How did you become fluent in it only a few weeks time?! Even with some amount of emersion, I would think it's be possible!"

AN: J.K. Rowling has yet to introduce us to, or even name the Ancient Rune's or the Muggle Studdies professors, so I decided to give the Ancient Rune's Professor a name (as Hermione wouldn't go around calling her professor 'the Ancient Runes Professor', if she was in their class, or even if she wasn't). She's a witch, and her name's _Loquella_ _Erilis_, see the Translations at the end to find out what that means, if you're interested.

Harry broke out laughing a moment after she'd finished. It took his several moments to regain control of himself, but he really couldn't help it. '_Only Hermione,_' he thought, as he offered the overachiever a kind smile. "It took much more than a few weeks, 'Mione." He held up a hand to delay her protests, "It took nearly ten years, _**don't you think, **_melda nin?"

"_**Yes, give or take a season,**_" Violet replied with a soft smile. "_**Although I can only go by what the other Galadhrim told me.**_"

"Would you _please_ _stop_ that?" Ron interrupted, praying they weren't talking about anything glare-worthy. "And what'd you mean nearly ten years? You started studying it when you were _five?_ I'd think we would've noticed something like that, mate."

"No," Harry replied in the same quiet, measured tone as before, while watching the steam rise off his tea. "I started studying it when I was fifteen."

"But you're fifteen now!"

"No, as I told you before, I am not. Not anymore." The last of the Potter line replied, shaking his head slightly, looking up to meet three sets of identically stunned gazes. "I'm two-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-nine."

For several moments afterward, no one spoke. Harry and Violet were studying their young friends stunned expressions, while the other three were far too taken aback to say anything.

"Something happened on my fifteenth birthday," Harry told them, breaking the weighty quietus. "Voldemort was torturing some Muggles -- about half a dozen, as a mockery of my birthday. I'd opened the present all of you had sent me -- which really were great, by the way," he paused a moment, struggling to remember what had happened. "Your mum had sent me a cake, Ron. A cake with candles that lit themselves."

Ron nodded, frowning as he quietly replied, "A wishing cake…" then his eyes widened, as did the eyes of the other two fifteen year olds in the Room.

"An _Opto Defluo?_" Hermione demanded, clearly amazed.

The redhead nodded, "Yeah, mum thought it was the best thing she could offer… Her family was one of the few that knew the recipe, though she hadn't made it in years…" he frowned, "So you…?"

"I blew out the candles, at midnight, at the start of my birthday."

"And because you were in pain," Hermione summarized, her eyes wide, "and your magic was at a high point; midnight _and_ your birthday, the cake went to great lengths to grant your wish…"

Harry nodded, "I wanted to be someplace safe…where the pain would stop…"

"Where did you go?" the brunette inquired quietly, "I wouldn't think any place on this world…"

"It wasn't on Earth," he nodded, "It sent me to the woods of Lothlórien, on Middle Earth. Where I met the Eldar, and was welcomed into their world."

"Another dimension…?" Ron breathed, clearly as awed as Hermione, and Draco, were.

When Harry nodded, Hermione shook her head in wonderment. "That's why you're so different… And why you could be so much older… You didn't physically belong in that world, right?"

"So I wasn't mortal," Harry nodded, "yes."

"And now?" Malfoy asked, his tone far more taciturn than the others had ever heard.

"I am mortal."

Hermione looked at Violet, her eyes wide. "And…?"__

The Elf shook her head, "I am not. I am still an immortal."

"Then why'd you come?" Ron frowned, shaking his head, "You gave up immortality for…" he stopped, looking at Harry.

"You'll find you're capable of quite a bit more then you every imagined possible, when you're in love…" Violet offered with a kind smile.

* * *

"_Well?_" the Dark Lord demanded angrily, glaring at the witch across the table.

She did not look up, not that it would've helped her much; she was blind to the physical world, after all, so she didn't waste her time with pretended. Instead, she focused her sight inward, to the true Sight, the Sight of a seer.

It was a rare occasion indeed that would find the Heir of Salazar Slytherin calling upon anyone, and the quaint surrounding hardly presented themselves to the favor. The small room was furnished with antiques that were probably as archaic as the dust and grime they boasted. The air was thick with a heady bouquet of Sight inducers.

"_Thee with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has come…_" the Seer murmured after nearly an hour of gazing sightlessly into the glowing crystal ball.

"Potter?"

"_Born when the seventh month died…_"

"_Potter!_"

"_He has changed from what we once knew…_"

"_Obviously,_" Voldemort growled.

"_He has powers neither the Dark Lord nor the Bumblebee know…_"

"Powers?"

Suddenly the light in the crystal ball faded, before vanishing completely, and the Seer leaned back in her chair, breathing heavily.

"What did you mean by _powers?_"

She looked towards him, and blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"You said that Potter has powers that neither I, nor Dumbledore, know of. What powers?"

"He's changed…" the Seer frowned.

"Obviously, but _what **powers**?_"

The witch shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?!"

"I couldn't see anything on the lower level," she sighed, "Something's protecting him… I had to go much deeper. When a Seer delves -- intentionally or unintentionally -- into the Deeper Sight, they rarely have any recollection of it… I didn't really tell you anything. The Darkness did, I was simply its instrument."

"You didn't hear anything?"

The Seer shrugged, "It would have told me if I wanted to know for myself, but I was looking for you, so you were the one that It spoke to. My memory of the last half-hour or so is a haze of Darkness."

"I see…" the Dark Lord murmured, thinking it over. After a moment he nodded, rising to his feet, "Well done, Mallux, you have been most helpful."

"I try, Dark one."

* * *

Several weeks later didn't see the Order of the Phoenix any better off then they had previously been. If anything, they're condition had worsened. Voldemort had been very active as of late, and yet the Minster still refused to see anything, claiming that it was; one: unrelated hooligans or copycats. Or, more often, two: someone Dumbledore put up to, to cause a panic.

"You have no idea of what he is up to, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired, frowning as the Hogwarts Potions Professor sunk tiredly back into the only chair in the room that had been vacant for quite some time.

"None," Snape replied wearily. "He's 'up to' something, but he has yet to tell us of what…he's even more suspicious than before, although, he's become quite a…busybody lately, as well. He never tells us what he's doing or why he wants us to do certain tasks."

"You can't…?"

"_Ask?_" the Slytherin House Head filled in when the younger order member broke off, "Only a suicidal fool would even consider that…or perhaps a Gryffindor, though I rarely see the difference."

Dumbledore intervened before an argument could start up between the long-time rivals present. "Very well, we'll have to try other means, then…" He turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt, "Kingsley?"

The dark-skinned Auror shook his head, sighing resignedly. "There's been an appalling increase in Dark activity, but very little that can be pinned to anybody."

The other Auror's present nodded in agreement.

"You can discover nothing specifically linked to Voldemort?" the Headmaster inquired, no noticeable skepticism in his tone.

"No," Shacklebolt replied, his head shake mimicked by the other Order members of his profession. "Nothing…"

"Then," Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid we have a problem, as we seem to be rather blind."

Everyone present nodded in agreement, and a heavy silence slipped over the room as they tried to perceive an escape from their present dilemma.

After several moments, Sirius Black spoke up, albeit hesitantly. "What about Harry?"

This inquiry made almost everyone in the room blink in surprise, and their leader didn't appear any less surprised, for a change. "Pardon?"

"Has Harry had any visions?" the Wizarding fugitive queried.

"…Not that I am aware of…" the Headmaster frowned, considering. "Have you exchanged words with him recently?"

"Not since this summer, when we went to the Dursley's new townhouse…. It's a bit odd," Sirius shook his head, "by this time last year I'd exchanged a number of letters with him, most of them were while he was at the Dursleys…but even while he was here, in school, he wrote to me, a bit."

"Indeed…" Dumbledore murmured, then nodded after a moment's thought. "Perhaps you should write to him yourself, inquiring?"

* * *

**_End Chapter 10._**

* * *

****

**Translations:**

_Marta_ - Fated

_Loquella_ _Erilis_ - master/mistress of language (f.)

"Be iest lîn" -- It literally means; "According to your wish," but you should know it from the first movie as; "As you wish."

_Opto_ _Defluo_ - to choose/to wish for…of the gifts of heaven.

_Mallux_ - Dark eyesight She's a Seer for evildoers.

* * *

**AN: Hi everybody!**

**Well, I must say, the reviews for the last chapter were a nice surprise! 53 Reviews in roughly 2 weeks! (At least I think that's how many are there… did something strange, and now I think there are some reviews for another chapter mixed in with the previous one, so if I didn't post a reply or list you under the "thank you list", I really I am sorry, but I thought posting the chapter was more important than responding to every single review. But, anyway;) Bravo! **

**Personally, I prefer the next half. It's a bit fast-paced and confusing, but it's a defining moment in the story, and there's a lot of action, some more romance, and more Elves! So, I like it. And all that has to happen for you to see it is for twenty or more people to review! That's all! (Please note that one person leaving 20 reviews will be treated as one, as usual… Oh, and please say a little more than "Great story, please update!" Surely something in this chapter merits _some_ comment!) **

**In response to a few complaints directly to myself, and the trouble has been causing, I'll be posting all Review Responses on the There and Back Again Mailing List from now on. Sorry for any trouble that may cause.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	12. Chapter 11: Marta, Part II

**AN: Hi everyone! **

**I'd like to thank Shadowsong for offering to be my beta for this story! Hopefully this will equate to better work for you to read! Please give Shadowsong a round of applause for managing to beta this so quickly (22 pages in under an hour is pretty good work)! Well anyway, onto the fanfic! ****Enjoy! **

* * *

**There and Back Again**

_Chapter 11: Marta, Part II_

By Jess S

Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair and bringing his hands up to his temples to massage the fierce ache that was rapidly augmenting therein. He didn't open his eyes as he heard Ránëwén approach and set a tray, of what was probably the tea she'd promised a few minutes before, on the table. The same table that had, perhaps a quarter of an hour earlier, been the locale of the DA's second meeting.

"**_That went well..._**"

"**_Not as well as I'd hoped for._**"

A soft, melodic laugh preceded the Elf's response as she set their drinks. "**_Life rarely does,_** melda nin."

"**_True…_**" The wizard nodded, opening his enthralling green eyes in order to properly accept the ready teacup he knew she was offering. After setting the saucer down, and bringing the cup itself up to his mouth, he took his first sip of the steaming liquid, while his thoughts drifted back to the proceedings of short time past.

The earlier part of the day, all of which was, of course, devoted to classes, had gone well. Nothing strange had occurred, and no one showed any suspicion of anything in his direction, with the exception of Professor Snape. Of course, the Slytherin Head _always_ suspected him of _something_, so that hardly mattered…

What troubled him were the events that followed. Nothing about supper had been out of the ordinary, with the exception of the fact that the second DA meeting was to follow it. And so it had. Everyone, even Malfoy, had come. And he'd told them all.

Violet was right, it could've been worse. It was fortunate that no one had gone into blatant denial or attacked him, or anything of that sort. Had anyone been unwilling to accept it, and therefore unwilling to follow him, he would have been forced to alter his or her memories. Or, if anyone had attacked him, or Violet, he probably would've been forced to hurt him or her. Happily, neither had been necessary.

That didn't mean that they hadn't been surprised, though. Actually, 'surprised' was a bit weak, utterly stunned and bewildered was probably a much better description.

**_

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_**

_"H-How is that p-possible?" Neville, whose expression of wide-eyed befuddlement was mutely echoed all around, inquired._

_"We live in one of many different dimensions, which aren't really connected by anything, with the exception of the fact that they all exist for the life forms within. I wasn't an inborn part of Arda; therefore, its time had little physical meaning for me."_

_"But it changed you…" Ginny Weasley murmured quietly, watching him._

_There wasn't any hesitation before the raven-haired wizard's nod. "Yes."_

_"But you're still Harry Potter, right?" Dean Thomas asked, staring at him. "You're still the Harry we kno-knew before this last summer… right?"_

_"He is a part of me, yes." Harry waited a moment before continuing. "If that makes any of you uncomfortable enough to want to break away from the DA, then please say so now." _

_Violet mimicked his actions, in looking around the table and catching each and every member's eyes. What they saw reassured them. The teenage wizards were uncomfortable, certainly, but they were here to stay…_

_"Very well then," the last of the Potters nodded, "Those of you who do not want a part in the DA's function in the War may leave now, you will be informed of the next meeting, once again, by your membership galleon."_

_This time, they waited longer, watching the __Vantánosse even more closely. After nearly a minute, a Ravenclaw stood. _

_Cho Chang, apparently shocked, turned to reprimand her best friend, but Harry stopped her with a shake of his head._

_"Good evening then, Miss Snitch." The Boy-Who-Lived's farewell and the sound of her own feet upon the stones were the only sounds that broke the silence of her departure. He waited several moments after the door had thudded shut before her before continuing. "I commend all of you, and thank you. We are going to need all the help we can get for the imminent hostilities."_

_"Aren't you leaving?" Everyone turned to Ron Weasley in surprise as he cut into what everyone assumed was going to be heartening and inspirational speech from their leader. He was glaring at the blonde a few seats away from him._

_"No, Weasley, I am not. I have as much of a right to **choose** a side in this war as any of you." Malfoy replied quietly._

_Harry held up a hand to avert the redhead's response. "He's right, Ron."_

_"Harry!" the youngest of the Weasley son's and a Gryffindor of five years sputtered, "He's a **Slytherin!** A **Malfoy!**"_

_"But he is also his own person." Violet offered, her musical tone washing over them in a soothing wave. "He does have a right to choose. A right that he has never been allowed, but which should have never been denied him."_

_Harry nodded, "I know you don't all trust each other, and I'm not asking you to, not yet. What I **am** asking you to do is trust **me**, let me make these decisions. Trust has to be earned, and I'm not saying that all of you have my full trust, but I'm willing to give you the chance to earn it. I'm asking you to give each other that chance. Let each and every member of this group have a chance at earning your trust." He looked around a moment, before continuing softly. "Remember what the Sorting Hat said?"__ Our Hogwarts is in danger, from external, deadly foes, and we must unite inside her, or we'll crumble from within…" What else do you think that meant?"_

_When no one spoke Violet decided to break in again, "Anta kuile estel; give life a chance. Give **us** a chance of winning."___

**_

* * *

End of Flashback

* * *

_**

He was brought back to the present as gentle hands took his teacup away and placed it back in the saucer on the table, before coming back to clasp his own tightly.

"**_But… don't you feel better now? Now that it's not a secret? Doesn't that feel good,_** melda nin?"

"Uma…" Harry nodded, smiling as he did so, before bringing one of his wife's gentle hands up for an affectionate kiss.

Today's meeting had gone rather well after that. There was always a point in a group's formation when it had to be organized, otherwise it would never prosper. So, that's what they'd done, they'd organized their ranks, discussed the future, and prepared for it. They'd practiced some magic, laid some battle plans, and he'd given all of them some Defense and Dueling books to study in their spare time…

Voldemort would attack soon, that much they knew for sure.

With any luck, Rúmil and Camthalion would come through with Elven reinforcements soon…

Now all they had to do was wait…and hope…

* * *

_"**Moonrise,**" Rúmil commented, nodding towards the distant horizon._

_"**A new moon,**" his brother agreed with a nod. "**You have the key?**"_

_The 'younger' twin nodded, moving over to the peculiar, nearly complete puzzle they'd found when they'd arrived on this island the night before, and holding up the piece that would complete it, and hopefully grant them passage to the Elven Haven of this world. As the first rays of the barely present moonlight graced the puzzle, it began to glow bright silver. "Viirin…" Rúmil murmured, carefully holding out the puzzle piece over its proper place. "**You should probably come here, brother-mine.**"_

_Camthalion nodded, quickly moving over to stand opposite him, placing his hand with his brother's on the puzzle piece before lowering it into its proper position._

* * *

**_Middle Earth - Somewhere in the wilderness - 3434 TA_**

_It had been long time since Hobbits in general had **needed** to trust one of another Race, Frodo's uncle, Bilbo Baggins, being the only major exception. Therefore, it shouldn't have surprised the Ranger that they were traveling with, who went by the name of 'Strider' that his explanation of; "Into the Wild," in response to Frodo's inquiry of their destination, hadn't appeased them in the slightest. _

_"How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf?" _

_Frodo frowned as he glanced back at Merry, before returning his gaze to watch the Ranger, who was some distance ahead of them. "I think a servant of the enemy would look fairer… and **feel** fouler…"_

_Merry snorted, "He's foul enough."_

_None of the Hobbit's noticed their guide's ever so slight pause._

_"We have no choice but to trust him," the Ring bearer replied, ignoring Merry's sigh as he moved forward slightly as a narrow point of the so-called path that was serving, albeit reluctantly, as their means of travel. _

_Sam's question from a short way back, where he was guiding their Pony, Bill, wasn't much louder than their own whispered conversation. "But where's he leading us?"_

_"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee." The hobbits halted abruptly as Strider replied, somewhat gruffly, "To the House of Elrond."_

_"Do you hear that?" Sam asked excitedly. "Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!"_

* * *

_Camthalion moaned softly as he came to, the fierce pain inside his head and the soreness of his limbs making movement seem somewhat stupid. Nonetheless, he had to see where he was, so he opened his eyes, moving slightly in preparation for rising from the soft cushions he'd been sleeping on. _

_"**Don't move!**" A firm, melodious voice ordered sternly. _

_The Elf halted abruptly as he recognized the command in his own tongue. He knew what they'd said, yes. However, the accent was a little strange… Did that mean? "**Where…?**"_

AN: The rest of the dialogue in this scene _is_ in Elvish, but I don't feel like emphasizing all of it, so just know that all of it is 'in' Elvish, even if I only use a few Elvish words… Also, the Elvish words that I _do_ use here will be translated at the end of the chapter.__

_"You are in the Karo Kuiled. Before your coming, the Andon hadn't been activated in centuries, so I'm afraid it wasn't as gentle as it usually is, and we weren't quite ready to receive you."_

_"But… where…?"_

_"This is I'Silemnan's House of Healing; I am Niwenna, its Head."_

_"Healer?"_

_"Uma."_

_"My brother…?"_

_"He has yet to awaken."_

_"I'm awake…" Rúmil's weary voice told them from a few feet away, making the healer jump in surprise. "I don't think I want to get up, though."_

_Healer Niwenna snorted, "I should think not." After a moment she sighed, "The King wished to greet you when you'd awakened so I'm afraid I must go report to him. Will you…?"_

_"We'll be fine." Camthalion assured her, watching as she made her way to the door. After it had clicked shut behind her, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the silky white cloth that had pooled down to the bed as he placed his feet on the floor. "Are you alright, tornnin?"_

_"Uma," his twin replied, "I really don't think my body wants to move though."_

_The other sighed, "I know, but if we're going to speak with the King know we have to be at our best. It took us long enough to find this place… And Harry needs reinforcements as soon as possible."_

_Rúmil sighed, "You're right…" after a moment, he too forced himself to sit up, turning to face his brother as he placed his feet on the tiled floor. "What she did call this place? The House of Life?"_

_"Uma," Camthalion nodded. "It reminds me of Imladris…more so than Eryn Lasgalen and Lothlorien, as least."_

_"I know what you mean…" Rúmil nodded, "but…it feels… sadder…almost resigned."_

_"Fading." Someone else cut in, and they turned to see a much older Elf enter the room, closing the door behind him._

_"Fading?" Camthalion inquired, his curiosity getting the better of him. _

_"Yes," the older Elf nodded, "I'm afraid we are on our last legs… We are all that remains of the Eldar who once dwelled here. We are the ones that were too paranoid, too fearful of change to journey to the Undying Lands… The gate closed long ago. So we are trapped here. A dying race." After a moment, the elder shook his head. "I am sorry; I should not be burdening you with such news, particularly when you've only just woken… I am King __Nolofinw__, ruler of I'Silemnan."_

_"Greetings, your majesty." Camthalion replied softly, still half considering what they'd just learned. "I am Camthalion Míriel, and this is my brother, Rúmil."_

* * *

"Strange…"

"What?" Hermione asked, as she and Ron turned to look at their friend as they made their way into Hogsmeade's Candy Store: Honeydukes.

"How many Slytherins have you seen since leaving the school?" Harry inquired, apparently interested in some of the Honeydukes chocolate.

Both Gryffindor's frowned for several moments in thought before shaking their heads.

"None, I think," Hermione murmured, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Same here," Ron agreed, trying to catch Harry's eyes. "What'd you think it means?"

Harry didn't reply as he made his way through the store, the other two following. When he reached the back, secluded corner, he turned, staring past them as they also stopped.

They turned around to see a hooded Ravenclaw stop a few steps away from them. After a moment he looked up, and they could see that he wasn't a Ravenclaw at all.

"Draco?" Harry inquired.

"He's going to attack, today, soon," the blonde explained hurriedly. "No one in my house came down because of that… I have to go back, but you _have_ to get everyone out of here, Harry! They'll be kill--" He stopped abruptly as they heard screams from outside.

"Too late…" the raven-haired wizard murmured drawing his wand. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, "Get your cloaks up, activate the shielding bracelets I gave you," he nodded to the thin, golden bracelets they were wearing, before meeting Hermione's gaze, "And tell everyone in the DA what to do. The charm's; _dedi-datum_, it'll make the coins grow warm, and allow you to communicate with everyone, as soon as they touch them, telepathically." He turned away from, "Don't come out until everyone else is ready. And you should probably wait until the Order of the Phoenix shows up, Draco, or only attack from the shadows…"

Then he was on his way, honing in on Voldemort's presence via the slightly suppressed pain from his scar…

* * *

__

**_Rivendell, Middle Earth, 3434 TA_**

_"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." Lord Elrond began from his throne-like seat between his two sons. "Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. **None** can escape it, you will unite or you will fall. Each race is **bound** to this fate, this **one doom**." After a moment, he nodded to Frodo, before gesturing to the stone pedestal in the center of the Council's circle. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo…"_

_AN: You know one thing that always bothered me about this scene? It's on a balcony, **outside**! I mean really, **why** would you hold a "secret council" **outside?!** ...OK, I'm done now…_

_Frodo stood slowly, before making his way over to the pedestal at an equally unhurried speed. When he placed the plane golden band on the pedestal, everyone was silent for a moment after a few gasps, though the hobbit himself sighed in relief as he sat down; he was finally free._

_Then Boromir of Gondor broke that silence, as he rose to his feet. "In a dream… I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered," he took a step towards the pedestal, almost subconsciously. "A voice was crying; 'Your doom is at hand, Isildur's Bane is found.'" He took another step up to the pedestal, before reaching out towards the Ring. "Isildur's Bane."_

_Lord Elrond stood in alarm, "Boromir!"_

_But his voice was drowned out as Gandalf the Grey also rose, and began to speak in the Black Tongue, saying words that made the earth shake and the sky grow dark. "**Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.**" Everyone flinched back and away from the wizard even after he raised his hand when Boromir had seated himself once again. The light returned and the ground stilled. _

_After a moment, Lord Elrond looked at Gandalf, his tone as close to reprimanding as it had ever been when addressing the Istari. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of **that** tongue here in Imladris."_

_"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf bowed slightly as the Elf Lord sat down, "for the **Black Speech of Mordor** may yet be heard, in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil."_

_Boromir shook his head as the wizard turned back towards his own seat. "It is a **gift**."_

_Gandalf stopped to look, almost glare, back at the Man of Gondor._

_"A gift to the foes of Mordor!" Boromir insisted, rising. "Why not use this Ring?" He looked around, shaking his head in earnest, "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, are your lands kept safe!"_

_If anyone had been looking towards Strider, rather finely dressed for Ranger, they would have seen him sit back, his lips pressed in a tight line. _

_"Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy! Let us use it against him!"_

_"You cannot wield it, none of us can!" Strider shook his head. "The One Ring answers to Sauron **alone**, it has no other master."_

_Boromir frowned slightly, "And what, would a Ranger know of this matter?"_

_One of the Mirkwood Elves that was now sitting right behind him apparently took great offense at this, and rose to say so. "This is no mere Ranger." He insisted, waiting until the Man had turned to face him. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn… You owe him your allegiance."_

_Most of the people present, including Boromir, turned to stare at Arathorn's son._

_"Aragorn?" Boromir frowned, "This is Isildur's heir?" _

_"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the blonde Elf pointed out, still standing._

_After a moment of continued silence, Aragorn shook his head, gesturing downward slightly before pleading, "Havo dad, Legolas."_

_As the Elf complied, Boromir turned to glare at him. "Gondor has no king," he told the Elf, before turning to walk back to his seat, his eyes on Aragorn as he did so. "Gondor needs no king."_

_The silence that followed probably would've been quite long, had Gandalf not broken it. "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it."_

_Lord Elrond stood, drawing every ones attention back as he composed himself. "You have only one choice…" he looked around, "The Ring must be destroyed."_

_Boromir shook his head a moment before one of the dwarves leapt to his feet, axe in hand. "Then what are we waiting for?" he demanded, before stepping forward and bringing his axe down on the Ring with a shout._

_Frodo flinched, bringing a hand to his head as heard **that voice**, once again, in his head. '**Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul…**'_

_Gandalf looked over towards him in concern, even as the Dwarf was thrown back from the pedestal by a wave of Dark power._

_When everyone, including the astonished dwarf, looked up at the pedestal once again, they saw that the Ring was still whole, surrounded by the shards of the dwarven axe. _

_Lord Elrond shook his head, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess… The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, only there can it be unmade." He looked around, measuring their reactions as he continued. "It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came… One of you must do this."_

_Several moments of silence followed this speech, as everyone felt the implications of it slip in. Once again though, it was Boromir of Gondor, who broke the silence. _

_"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs… There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume." He shook his head, "Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly…"_

_"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" Legolas demanded as he rose a second time. "The Ring must be destroyed!"_

_"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" the same dwarf from before, who'd apparently found his way back to his seat at some time during the Elf Lord's speech._

_Legolas glared at the dwarf even as Boromir rose to his feet once again._

_"And if we fail what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"_

_Gimli jumped up once again, "I will be dead before I see the Ring, in the hands of an Elf!"_

_It didn't take much intelligence to realize that there was bad blood between the two groups, and an insult like that isn't going to help circumstances. So it wasn't overly surprising when most of the other Elves jumped up to dispute the comment. Legolas immediately held the two closest Elves, who had been sitting on either side of him, back, but said nothing to stop the bickering that ensued. Of course, Gimli's addition of; "Never trust an Elf!" probably didn't help matters…_

_Frodo glanced over at the Grey Wizard as the noise rose, but the Wizard shook his head, his attention on the quarrel as he rose to scold them. _

_The hobbit then looked over towards the pedestal again, and the Ring that resided atop it. Gandalf's scolding of; "Do you not understand? While you bicker amongst yourselves Sauron's power grows? None of you can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!" echoed in the background of his mind as that voice came to the forefront again, a malicious and merciless curse. _

_'**Ash nazg durbatulûk! **_

**_Ash nazg gimbatul! _**

**_Ash nazg thrakatulûk! _**

**_Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!_**

_As he felt the flame-like hatred building, an impulse from the Ring, fanned by the quarreling that was going on around it, Frodo decided, jumped to his feet._

_"I will take it!" No one seemed to hear this cry, so he raised his voice, stepping forward as he repeated it, "I will take it!"_

_This time, he apparently was heard, as the arguing seemed to come to a shockingly abrupt halt. Most bore stunned-expressions as they turned to him, though Gandalf was quite obviously remorseful. But Frodo ignored this, as he redefined his statement. _

_"I will take the Ring to Mordor…" It was only under the analyzing gazes of all those around, the best warriors and leaders of the Age, that he faltered slightly. "Though… I do not know the way…"_

_Gandalf nodded, and immediately came to his aid. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins… as long as it is yours to bear."_

_Aragorn, among the few who's remained seated, now rose, catching the halfling's eyes. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He swore, before making his way over and kneeling, "You have my sword."_

_"And you have my bow," Legolas offered a moment later, as the heir to the throne of Men rose and stood behind the hobbit. _

_Gimli immediately followed the Elf, "And my axe."_

_It was only after both were situated in the group that was forming around him, that Boromir of Gondor made his way over. "You carry the fate of us all, little one… If this is indeed, the will of the Council," he looked around a moment before nodding to the Halfling, "then Gondor will see it done."_

_"Here!" the moment lost some esteem as Sam ran out from the bushes, ducking under Aragorn's arm to reach his friend and master. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."_

_"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you," Lord Elrond shook his head, raising an eyebrow, "even when he is summoned to a secret Council, and you are not."_

_"Hey!" Merry called, leading the way as he and Pippin ran down the steps from the stone columns that led to the entrance way, "We're come to! You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."_

_"Anyway," Pippin nodded from his place beside Merry, who was now standing by Frodo, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of… Mission… Quest… Thing!" he nodded, while Merry shook his head._

_"Well, that rules you out, Pip."_

_"Nine companions…" Elrond looked them over, and then nodded. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."_

_"Great!" Pippin smiled. "Where are we going?"_

_AN: LOL, gotta love 'im!_

* * *

"Hershey's Kisses!" Professor Severus Snape snapped as he reached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office, hurrying past it as it leapt aside. The stairs apparently couldn't rise fast enough in Snape's opinion, as he'd reached the rising top of them only moments afterward, and stood there, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for it to reach the top.

The Headmaster looked up as the Schools Potions Master hurried in. "Severus?"

"He'll be attacking any minute now!"

Dumbledore rose to his feet in alarm. "Voldemort is coming here?"

"No! Hogsmeade! You have to get everyone in the Order down there; this could be deleterious! I'm probably the only Death Eater that isn't going to be there!"

"Are they after Harry?" Dumbledore asked, as he hurried over to the fireplace and threw some blue powered into it.

Snape snorted, "What'd you think?"

Dumbledore didn't answer as he pointed his wand at the fire, murmuring the incantation to summon all of the members of the Order of the Phoenix…

* * *

**_Imladris, Middle Earth, 3434 TA_**

_"Mae govannen, Legolas." Aragorn smiled as he crossed paths with Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, and his friend for a number of decades._

_"Mae govannen, Estel." Legolas replied, joining arms with his friend, the typical Elvish greeting of close companions. AN: Think of it like a handshake reserved for friends and/or comrades. Oh, and all of the conversation is supposed to be in Elvish, but once again, I don't feel like translating or emphasizing all of it, and I doubt you feel like reading that much Elvish…_

_"You are well?" the Dúnedain inquired politely. _

_Legolas nodded, offering a soft smile. "As well as can be expected, in times such as these."_

_"Of course…" Aragorn also nodded, before continuing on his way through the garden, his fair-haired friend at his side. "How is Mirkwood fairing?"_

_"Also as well as can be expected…" Legolas sighed, "I long for the days when the forest was green and great, to return once more."_

_"We all do, I'm sure." Aragorn shook his head, "Peace and prosperity are always finer and more pleasing than warfare."_

_The Elven prince nodded; "True…" he paused listening for a moment as they neared quiet voices._

_"What is it?" _

_"I believe we run the risk of disrupting a conversation…"_

_Aragorn raised an eyebrow, but shrugged a moment later, smirking slightly. "We wouldn't want to that, now would we?" he glanced around, "Where to?"_

_"They're over there," Legolas nodded, then frowned slightly. "I believe it is Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen." _

_Aragorn also frowned. "Oh?" He paused, then shook his head. "Perhaps we should bid them good evening, then? Arwen hasn't seen you in quite awhile…"_

_Legolas nodded, "That is true… Shall we, then?"_

_The descendant of Númenor nodded, before turning in the direction the Elf had indicated earlier and leading the way through the gorgeous garden. This was a small realm of peace that Lord Elrond had supposedly designed for his wife, many centuries earlier, as a wedding present. And what a present it was… Filled with some of the most scarce and beautiful plants in all of Middle Earth, left to flourish around elegant water fountains and intricate pathways, it was one of the most peaceful places in all of the Western lands._

_"I miss them, Father…" Arwen's melodious, and presently mournful voice drifted through the quiet night over the nearby fountain's pleasant fall. _

_"Of course you do, my child," the Elf Lord replied softly, his tone kind. "We always miss those who have passed on that were dear to us."_

_"But we may never see them again," the princess continued quietly, after a moments pause. "What reason do I have to go to Valinor when no one I truly care for dwell there? I love you, truly, ada, but you would be the only one I have, if…if mother did not make it…" This pained comment deserved a longer pause, in which Aragorn and Legolas had both stopped; deciding now probably wasn't a good time to interrupt the Lord of Imladris and his daughter. "You have friends, and family there, even without us…But I don't. My dearest friends left for another world altogether many centuries past--"_

_"Ránëwén, Elerossë, and the Míriel Twins would not want you to throw away your right to cross the sea simply because they cannot."_

_The lady's reply was even quieter than before, "And do you want me to throw away my chance at true happiness?"_

_The Elf Lord's reply was long-delayed in coming, but it did nonetheless, "It is, of course, your choice to make…"_

_"Hannon le, ada…"_

_This appeared to be the end of the conversation, so Aragorn and Legolas moved forward once again, swiftly coming around the corner in companionable silence that belied their puzzlement. _

_"Ah, Legolas, my young friend," Lord Elrond stood with a smile from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the fountain, his daughter quickly following his lead, offering both of them a smile. "Welcome to Imladris, I do apologize for not greeting you properly, earlier--"_

_"You were busy, my lord," Legolas interrupted, smiling as he shook his head. "It is of little concern by comparison to all that is going on around us."_

_"Indeed…" the Elf Lord nodded, shaking his head slightly. "Speaking of which, the two of you should probably be abed by now, should you not?"_

_"We both felt drawn to the gardens, my lord. But I do plan on heading back soon."_

_"As do I," Aragorn nodded._

_"Good, good," Elrond nodded, "I will bid you a good night then." He offered heading off down the path, stopping when he heard his daughter._

_"As shall I," Arwen offered both of them a smile._

_"Good night, my lord, my lady," Both offered, watching as the two Imladris Elves made their way towards the gardens nearest exit, which happened to be in sight of this fountain. Once the pair had passed through it, well out of hearing range, Aragorn turned to his friend. _

_"Do you…?"_

_Legolas frowned, shaking his head. "I knew Rúmil and Camthalion Míriel in my youth, but I thought they'd journeyed to the Undying Lands long ago. I have not seen them in many centuries."_

_"And what of the other two?"_

_Here, the Elf Prince's frown deepened. "The only elf-maiden I know by that name would be Ránëwén Galathil, Haldir of Lothlórien's niece, and the Míriel twin's cousin. Her parents died in the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim's service, and she was brought up alongside Arwen…I had thought that she too had gone to the Undying Lands…"_

_"And Elerossë?"_

_Legolas thought for several moments before shaking his head and sighing. "It is not a name I recognize…"_

_This certainly left them with an interesting mystery for the day before their quest was to begin…_

* * *

__

Harry didn't need to move far out of the sweetshop before he could see Voldemort's forces. They appeared to be coming from the road where the Hog's Head was located. This made sense, as it was known to have a somewhat corrupt clientele…though he somehow doubted that they'd actually be coming directly from the inn, it was just safer to gather outside of it, because of the clientele.

There were people running everywhere, and the din caused by the screaming left his sensitive ears much to be desired. But he ignored that, instead focusing on the slight throbbing of his scar, on Voldemort.

It didn't take long to find him, though moving through the crowd, which was probably fleeing to Hogwarts, or perhaps the Hogsmeade train station, or the local Floo station, wasn't the most effortless feat to conclude. Nonetheless, the crowd was ever so slowly thinning, and the D.A. had arrived, as far as he could tell, in full. Just in time, too, as Voldemort himself had just come around the corner, surrounded by what was probably his inner circle.

Harry didn't stop fighting as Voldemort neared, instead choosing to keep an eye on him, but not appear to be waiting for him; it wouldn't look right. Moreover, it gave him the chance to take down at least a few Death Eaters, so that they wouldn't need to worry about them.

However, he was ready when some of the Death Eaters drew back, and their Lord was standing a few feet a way from him, a chilling and hateful smile on his demonic face.

"Well, decide to make your extermination easy, Potter?"

"Hardly," the raven-haired wizard replied softly, no inflection whatsoever in his calm voice.

"Oh ho! Going to go down fighting, then?" Voldemort laughed, while drawing his wand. "Alright then, you have irked me for far too long, anyhow. But you are still a student, so, to be fair, I will allow you to begin our little duel…"

Harry didn't reply, he just met his gaze steadily, allowing only a small amount of power to show in his eyes, making his emerald gaze appear to be lit by supernatural flames. He wasn't there when Voldemort's first curse came, having moved with remarkable speed to a position a few steps away, and he simply stepped to the side, leaning slightly to dodge the second one before firing off his own.

It wasn't long before the Dark Lord started firing off Unforgivable curses, or at least two of them, as he apparently didn't think the Imperius curse was of much use here. He was right, but Harry didn't plan on telling him that, and he was far too busy dodging and firing off curses of his own to do anyway…

It wasn't until Voldemort fired off the worst of the Unforgivables, the killing curse, that Harry was forced to show that he really did have quite a bit more experience than a fifth year should.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Time seemed to slow down, and Harry grimaced slightly as the wave of green light came towards him. He knew the Order of the Phoenix had arrived moments before, knew that they were watching. And that would mean a lot of explaining when this was over… But he really had no choice…

And so, without further ado, he Disapparated, and appeared a few feet behind one of the Death Eaters that had been standing behind him, to make sure he couldn't run. He kept his face coldly expressionless as the older wizard screamed and fell, meeting the Heir of Slytherins surprised gaze as soon as the now dead Death Eater wasn't in the way.

"What--how--?"

His cool reply rung out over the silent street, even as it was stated at an only just audible volume, "We're all full of surprises, Riddle. I, unfortunately for you, have more than most up my sleeve."

And with a growl from the self-proclaimed 'Dark Lord', the duel began anew, the battle around them quickly following.

Now, it appeared as though Voldemort had lost all sense of ingenuity, as every curse he sent was either the Killing Curse or the Cruciatus. Then again, it wasn't a plan completely without merit. If he had the strength reserves to keep it up, then eventually Harry wouldn't be able to dodge, for fear of it hitting someone other than a Death Eater.

Seeing this, Harry acted, and, with a quickly flicked of his wand, he transfigured some of the air that was between him and Voldemort into a number of thin stonewalls, each of which would promptly disintegrated when the killing curse, or a milder destructive curse hit them, but they would served their purpose nonetheless.

With the time allotted him, instead of running, as heard many of the members of the OotP ordering him to do, he became waving his wand around, murmuring spells under his breath as he flicked it at the nearby stores, which happened to be _Zonko's Joke Shop_ and _Gladrag's Wizardwear_. A moment later, many of both stores merchandise had come out onto the street, without breaking wall, door, or window, and were currently flying around at his command, waiting for necessities. As he felt the second to last wall disintegrating, he quickly flicked his wand at each store again, ending the anti-barrier charms and replacing them with powerful shielding charms, so that the people hiding inside would be safe. Then he turned back towards where he knew Voldemort to be, and watched as the last wall fell, before sending the animated-clothes and joke materials flying around them, as barrier to keep the duel between them, for the Death Eaters that had been circling them had moved off to fight the DA and the Order of the Phoenix, and this fight really was for them alone.

He smirked as he saw some of the rather noticeable breaths that the Slytherin heir was taking and the sweat on his brow. "Tired already, Tom? We're just getting started."

"_Don't_ call me _that!_" the last of the Riddle House, by choice, commanded his voice a bit less confident than before.

"Why not? Is after all your real name, isn't, Mr. Riddle?"

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he shouted, and Harry sighed as he watched some of the flying cloth and dung bombs fly in between the two of them, only to disintegrate when they stopped the wave of wicked green light.

"Really, you'd think a so-called 'dark lord' would have at least a bit more originality then that. Is that really all you're capable of? Killing and torturing?"

"There's nothing worse than death, Potter!" Voldemort snarled, sending off another killer, only to have it meet the same as its predecessor.

"I'm afraid you couldn't be more wrong, Tom. There are surely many fates worse than the end of all forms of suffering."

"_Crucio!_"

Harry smirked as he let the red light strike him, absorbing and neutralizing it in almost the same moment. The Lady had taken great care to teach him everything she knew of the powers of the mind, and he had learned those lessons well.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" the Dark Lord snarled, a moment after it became apparent that a head on collision with his Cruciatus hadn't affected Harry in the slightest.

The Gryffindor raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in amusement as more of the clothes and prank tools took the incurable blow for him. You would think that he'd of learned the first time, or at least the second…but judging from the next curse coming towards him, as green and fatal as the last, his opponent wasn't learning anything…

Finally, he decided -- after watching a few members of the DA fall, only to have their comrades or Phoenix members step-in in their defense, even as Ránëwén carefully, but nonetheless swiftly removed them from the battlefield -- that this had to end. And so he let himself go into the fight, and began firing off curses, some of which were so powerful that they filled the air around them with static-like magic, making hair stand on end and eyes widen. Voldemort quickly began to respond in kind.

Even as Aurors arrived, and his forces began to be fiercely outnumbered, the Dark Lord paid them no mind, instead concentrating all of his efforts on his adversary as the duel continued to escalate before the stunned eyes of a now silent audience. Most of the Death Eaters that were still standing were watching from one end of the street, the end they'd come from, while everyone else was watching from shop windows, or the end of the street that led up to Hogwarts.

They fought with the elements, with summoned and transfigured animals, with hex, curse, and charm.

The Heir of Slytherin was quickly forced to stop calling on or creating snakes to do his bidding, an obvious preference, as it became apparent that they wouldn't harm Harry anymore than they'd harm him, for the 'younger' Gryffindor was also a Parselmouth.

They'd been fighting for a while now, Harry was sure. Duels and battles never seemed to take quite as long as they actually did, not until your body and mind were made sore by seemingly endless fighting and rapid thinking. But the signs were beginning to show in both of them, and Harry, who knew -- after _centuries_ of continuous training -- that he could endure several hours of such activity before it became the least bit conspicuous, was starting to breath a little faster than normal.

He knew that all he had to do was give them the chance, and all of the other wizards for the Light would be there for him. Dumbledore was just waiting for a chance to step in, and now that he and the Dark Lord were the only ones fighting, as was his wife…who was presently alternating between glaring at him and sending waves of encouragement through their bond…

But he didn't want to. He wanted to end this himself. Here. Now.

Therefore, he had to call on more of his 'new' abilities. Istari magic was something he was quite sure Voldemort had never seen before. This world knew it, but it hadn't seen it in a long time. The magic that can change the tides, the sky, and the world itself if need be, was not something to be wielded lightly, and it left a mark.

With a barely noticeable sigh, Harry drew himself up to his full height spreading his arms, as he began to release his magic, controlling it with the power of the Sindarin tongue. "_Losta u-anda, rilya noore-o-kuru! Ilnutho dîn ruith eni ya waara le!_"

The earth began to tremble…

* * *

AN: Back to _Elf-land on Earth_!

_"Wh-What's happening?!" Healer Niwenna gasped fearfully, as the earth itself began to tremble._

_The palace walls shook with magnitude of the world's sheer wrath, the sky darkened and air cackled with tremendous power._

_"Someone has woken the Lady!" King __Nolofinw__ replied worriedly, they could feel him sending off his power to try to calm the furious natural spirits. _

_"What do you mean?" Camthalion inquired, exchanging a look with his brother, who was sitting next to him at the supper table. His majesty, after ordering them abed for no less than a week, had, at the end of that week, invited them to dine with him in the royal hall; during a feast in honor of their arrival._

_They'd been more than a little astonished to find that their coming was so important to the people of I'Silemnan. These were the people who hadn't had the courage to sail to the Undying Lands, many centuries before, when the last fleet of ships was leaving. As such, they were now a people with little hope, cut off from the mortal world by choice, they simply had next to no reason to go on, and deaths of grievance and suicide had become terribly common in the last century. After all, when their body died, their soul left for the very promise lands they could no longer reach, so to them, death was a gift greater than almost any other…_

_"Centuries past, the wizards of this world finished laying the world to rest, calming the elements and placing them under a seemingly endless sleep… This was to protect their people and the cities and establishments they built. Before that, they'd only protected the land they lived on themselves, but as they began to expand, it became obvious that something needed to be done. So the most powerful wizards of the Age formed an alliance to put the world to sleep… Since then, Lady Nature has been very docile, only breaking into small fits of rage once in a while and only in various areas… But now, someone had retracted their ancestors' spells, and released all the fury the world had long held repressed in fitful sleep!" _

_"Wouldn't this have to happen anyway?" Rúmil asked, curious even as he struggled to keep the table steady. _

_"Yes, but we always thought that it would be in the far off future! The end of the world! We never thought **anyone** would be mad enough to release it intentionally! Either their trying to kill us all, or they foolishly think themselves capable of calming it before everything's destroyed… Either way, we're done for!"_

_Niwenna shook her head sadly, "And to think, we were so close…with the new hope…"_

_The King had told them of this 'New Hope'. His people had been trapped in this world, this self-chosen exile for so long, and were slowly fading away. But this last summer, they'd felt a chance in the world. A great beacon of Hope had appeared upon the horizon: a chance for survival, and happiness. _

_It was this that had led to them agreeing to come to Harry's aid, after hearing the twins' story. For who else could have brought such a change about?_

_But now it was too late…_

_They could feel the people's hope fading, to be replaced by resignation, fear and anguish…_

_But something happened then that none of them had **ever** suspected, least of all the Míriel twins themselves. They heard something in the distance, growing in power, even as they felt that sheer power build… With a flash of light, the Elvish chanting took comprehensible form, a chorus of voices the twins recognized easily, but hadn't expected to hear again._

**_Powers of our world,_**

**_Powers of the Valar,_**

**_Listen to the great word;_**

**_Open the path for your children!_**

**_Guide them! Protect them!_**

**_May your light shine upon them always!_**

* * *

Harry suppressed a moan as the elements unleashed all of the wrath they'd suppressed for so many years. It'd never been this bad on Arda. True, he'd always had his foster-kin looking over his shoulder, and he'd never really done anything big, but…

This _fury_…it was _appalling!_

It was almost as though no one had ever tried to heal the world they'd lived in, just violated it for all the riches it could offer and never bothered to give anything back.

But that couldn't be true, could it? _All_ of the people that had ever lived in this world couldn't really be that selfish…that _stupid_…could they?

No…

That wasn't it. It was something else.

He closed his eyes, looking searching…trying to find the origin of this disposition. It didn't take as long as he might've thought earlier… Only a few centuries ago, probably around the time that Hogwarts was founded, a group of witches and wizards had sealed the emotional, conscience side of the elements, of 'Mother Nature,' into a state of dormancy, where she had remained ever since.

Of course she was angry. Every little trouble that she'd had over the years, everything that had scarred her -- and those scars were plenty, thanks to the industrial age -- had been bottled up, not enough to awaken her, but enough to hurt.

And anything that had been done to heal her, and act of contrition offer, wasn't something she'd perceive immediately. She'd been asleep after all. She woke up to discover numerous wounds, and was now reacting to them…

It'd been foolish to awaken her for this, he certainly would've moved to correct this tremendous error as soon as he noticed it, but now was not the time for this, and she was in no state to help him…

"_Losta, heri nin, na sedho. Dîn 'ruith tenta, ar lîn nwalya tana tyelo. Dan esta, u-moka le iman varya le. Merne, heri, hauta, o sii…_"

The last of the Potter line pushed back with everything he had as the lady's wrath reared its terrible head, and after what seemed like an eternity, she finally gave way. He opened his eyes as the earth stopped shaking, his eyes widening as he saw Voldemort still standing, though much shaken, waving his wand with a determined look on his face.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

So this was the end, then, was it?

He knew he didn't have time to move, he couldn't move fast enough, not immediately after expending so much power and energy. The Wizarding robes and prank gimmicks had fallen to the ground when he'd switched to Istari magic…he didn't have time to reanimate them…

All he could do was accept his fate, and pray that the world was kind enough to not end itself… Pray that the twins had found the Elven Haven of this world, so that Violet wouldn't be alone after his death. So that she might survive it…

Harry would have closed his eyes then and there, determined to wear a serene façade in his last sleep, even after being put to death by the Killing Curse, but he was stopped by a sight that made his heart leap into his throat, and made him want to kick himself at the same time.

Ránëwén had somehow managed to make it all the way over here from where she'd been standing among the other defenders… And she was now standing right in front of him…

"No…" Harry plead came out on a pained and tired gasp, his eyes glazing over as she turned to him, the green tide of the killing curse slowly rolling towards them. "Ránëwén… melda nin…_please_…**_no!_**"

"Im melesse le, Elerossë Tinehtelë, Haryon o Lothlórien…" Ránëwén of Lothlórien murmured quietly, her namesake gaze also glazed with tears, which quickly overflowed, rolling gently down her pale, elegant features. "Im melesse le o oiale ar wanwie…"

Harry's eyes filled with even more horror as the green wave slowly wrapped almost lovingly around her slender form, contrasting her tearful gaze, setting alight her dark hair, and making her ever-pale skin take a deathlike hue…

"_No…_" he whispered as she fell backwards, landing hard on the ground, her eyes closed… "**_No_**…"

He dropped down to his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks, but before he could reach out to her, a bright light surrounded him, and a chant, which he recognized as the very same one that had sent him here, to watch his beloved wife and soul mate die, filled his mind…

**_Tûr o în amar,_**

**_Tûr oi Vala,_**

**_Lasto beth daer;_**

**_Panta aksa o lyaa nosse!_**

**_Kirya e! Varya e!_**

**_Kalya kala foa nosse oiale!_**

And all went dark as he fell into the oblivion of the unconscious realm….

* * *

**_End Chapter 11: Marta, Part II._**

* * *

**Translations:**

_Marta_ – Fated

_Loquella_ _Erilis_ - master/mistress of language (f.)

_Opto_ _Defluo_ - to choose/to wish for…of the gifts of heaven.

_Mallux_ - Dark eyesight She's a Seer for evildoers.

_Viirin_ - Moon substance/magic

_Karo Kuiled_ - House of Life

_I'Silemnan_ - The Silver Valley

_Dedi-datum_ - to communicate

_Losta u-anda, rilya noore-o-kuru! Ilnutho dîn ruith eni ya waara le!_ - "Sleep no more, gentle land of wizardry! Release your wrath on thee who would destroy you!"

_Losta, heri nin, na sedho. Dîn 'ruith tenta, ar lîn nwalya tana tyelo. Dan esta, u-moka le iman varya le. Merne, heri, hauta, o sii…_ - "Sleep, my lady, be at peace. Your wrath is heard, and your pain will be dealt with. But first, you mustn't destroy those who would heal you. Please, lady, take another rest, for now…"

"Im melesse le, Elerossë Tinehtelë, Haryon o Lothlórien…" - "I love you, Harry Potter, Prince of Lothlórien…"

"Im melesse le o oiale ar wanwie…" - "I will love you for all time and beyond…"

* * *

**AN: Well, you guys made 35 while I was asleep, so here you go! I hope it was worth it. **

**All Responses will be available on the There and Back Again Mailing List. (I don't want the story taken down because of excessive Author's Notes, and it would be just my luck that someone who doesn't like Elvish or something would call in a moderator that only reads the first few chapters before deciding to trash the whole story.) Sorry if this inconveniences anyone.**

****

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!**

**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	13. Chapter 12: Entulesse a Arda

* * *

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

* * *

**AN: **

**1. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my newborn niece, Teal Catherine. Who was born yesterday! (I'm an aunt now! ... Wow... I'm an aunt now...that's a strange thought...) **

**2. Until the groups meet up, the time that passes for each still isn't synchronized…**

**That'd just make everything difficult for me and confusing for you (and me), so please keep that in mind…**

**3. Thanks for reading, I hope you like it. **

**4. I'd like to thank Shadowsong for beta-ing once again. Thank you! **

**5. I think I'll just get this out of the way to begin with: All of the _dialogue in italics_ is _Elvish_. **

**6. Enjoy! **

* * *

**There and Back Again**

_Chapter 12: Entulesse a Arda_

By Jess S

Aragorn could hear the rather despondent song the Elven choirs were currently practicing in the distance, they're gorgeous voices raised in a harmony that most mortals could not even dream of achieving. But he was not here to appreciate the beauty of their voices, nor the sadness of their songs. No, he was here now, in the secluded garden that Lord Elrond had created especially for his wife, the fair Celebrían, a long time before, to bid his mother farewell.

Although Gilraen of Gondor had chosen to die far from the Elven realm, its Lord had been inclined to honor her with this grave, a delicately carved statuette of the fair lady. Many years had passed since its creation, and it showed in the foliage that he now pulled away from it, in order to look upon the carved facsimile of his much-loved mother in her youth.

"_**She wanted to protect her child…**_" The heir of Isilduir did not turn in the direction of the voice, nor did he even appear to consciously acknowledge the Elf Lord's presence, but Lord Elrond continued nonetheless. "_**She thought in Imladris, you would be safe.**_"

Aragorn reached up to caress the cool, stone visage that he could remember only distantly as it had appeared upon the lady in life.

"In her heart your mother knew that you would be hunted all your life, that you'd never escape your fate." Elrond told him. "The skill of the Elves can re-forge the sword of kings…but only _you_ have the power to _wield_ it."

"I do not want that power," King Arathorn's only son reminded his foster-father. "I have never wanted it."

Elrond shook his head sadly, still watching the much younger being. "You are the last of that bloodline, there is _no_ other…"

* * *

"_**This day is a strange one…**_"

The Lady of Light looked up as her husband stepped onto the terrace. "_Uma_, **_it is_,**" she agreed, obvious lost in thought.

"_**You Saw the Fellowship set off already?**_"

"_Uma_…"

"_**That is good,**_" the Elf Lord nodded, then sighed. "_**Though it would've been better if they'd left earlier…**_" Seeing his wife's inattention to the topic she'd been focused on for a number of days, Celeborn sighed, before making a quiet, gentle inquiry. "**_What is it_, _melda nin_?_ What do you sense?_**"

"_**A change…**_"

"_**A change?**_" Here, the Lord of the Galadhrim frowned. "_**Could it be the disturbance that the eastern border patrol reported, and is presently returning to investigate with the other Guardians?**_"

"Uma_… **that is part of it… What I sense…change…**_" she murmured, then grimaced. "_**And pain…terrible pain…and death…**_"

"_**Death?**_"

Galadriel nodded, "_Uma…**I--**_" she stopped abruptly, her pale blue eyes widening. Before her husband could ask anything of this sudden transformation, she'd already made it down the stairs to the ground below.

"_**Melda nin?**_" Celeborn called after her, worried, before he too followed. It didn't take long to realize where she was going… The Grove was practically humming with the waves of power the Mirror was discharging.

The Lady herself did not go to the Mirror however, instead choosing to remain at the top of the steps just outside of it, to watch as the light the Mirror was emitting rapidly augmented, reaching its pinnacle with a single burst of light, before diminishing. It left four shining beings in its wake; that glow quickly lessened to the radiance that was normal for most Elves, though two were not quite as alight as the other. The two that were of the more common lighting, were in fact Elves that both the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim recognized.

"Camthalion! Rúmil!" Galadriel gasped, hurrying down the steps to the sides of the two unconscious Galadhrim.

Celeborn, after calling for the healers to hurry down, quickly followed, reaching them at almost the same time his wife did. "_**How did this happen?**_" he paused when his eyes landed on the slightly shadowed Elves, whom he did not recognize. "**_Who are they?_"**

"_**I do not know…**_" the Lady of the Golden Wood replied, not looking up from examining the twins until she was satisfied with the fact that they apparently hadn't sustained any injury. Only then did she spare the other two a glance. "_**They are not of our land…nor any other I know of…**_"

"_**They are not Avari?**_"

Galadriel paused a moment, her eyes searching, and her husband knew that she was examining them with the Ring of Adamant. After several moments, she shook her heads, "_**They are similar…but not Avari of our world…**_"

"_**Not of our…**_" Celeborn blinked, then frowned. "_**Of…Eleross's world then?**_"

Nenya's Keeper nodded, "_**Quite possibly…**_"

Both looked up when some of the Galadhrim's finally entered the Grove and rose.

The Lady nodded to the four unconscious Elves. "_**They are under our protection. Care for them.**_"

"_**Of course**, heri nin._" The oldest amongst them bowed deeply, before directing the younger healers to lift the four onto the stretcher's they'd brought with them, pausing slightly when he took a closer look at the twins. "_Nai Vala…_"

* * *

"Wh-What the bloody hell just happened?!" Ron Weasley demanded, moments after the chaos died down, only to receive a glare from his mother, who was on the ground a few feet away.

"Watch your tongue, Ronald Weasley!" the witch reprimanded him, even as she herself stared around them in awe.

Everyone else: a few members of the Order of the Phoenix and the D.A., was reacting in similar fashion. It wasn't hard to see why; the forest they'd landed in was unlike any other they'd ever seen!

It was forest with golden trees that had to be centuries old, if their size offered an accurate estimation. The leaves and blossoms all around them suggested that land never saw winter, but was instead arrested in an eternal spring, though the slightly chilled air and cool breeze did not support that claim.

"Where _are_ we?" Hermione broke the potent silence, approbation ringing clearly in her quiet inquiry.

"You don't think…"

All of their heads snapped around to watch Draco, who was presently watching the forest from his position on the floor.

"Malfoy…?" Hermione inquired uncertainly.

After a moment he turned slightly to look at them, "I don't know, this looks an awful lot like the place Harry described, don't you think?"

"_Lothlórien…_" Hermione nodded, looking around. "Yes, it does…wait a minute… Where _is_ Harry?" she demanded, hurriedly pushing herself to her feet, the others following her example.

"He's over here!" Everyone turned upon hearing Severus's call, to see that he's already moved over to the unconscious wizard's side, and was presently looking him over. "He's alright, isn't he?" he asked, as Madam Pomfrey hurried over.

The Healer didn't reply for several moments, instead choosing to mutter spells under her breath as she waved her wand back and forth over his body. After a moment she nodded, putting her wand away carefully. "He appears to be fine physically, just exhausted…but he's hurting mentally."

"Why?" Sirius demanded, "Did Voldemort attack him with Legilimency?" But he didn't wait for the healers reply as he saw the sad; comprehending looks on all of the younger witches and wizards' faces. Even Malfoy looked pained. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Violet…" Hermione murmured, her voice pained as tears filled her eyes. She shook her head as a few overflowed, "_Violet_…"

"What?" Sirius blinked, glancing around at the others to see if they knew what the usually cool and logical young witch was talking about. What did violets have to do with anything?

"Is that the young woman who took the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort intended for Harry?" Dumbledore inquired kindly, his gaze serious.

The students nodded silently, several breaking down into sobs.

"Who was she?"

The members of the DA were silent for several moments, looking at each other, unsure of what to do. The only Slytherin student amongst them made the choice for them.

"His wife."

Several moments of shocked silence followed this comment. Then a distant birdcall almost seemed to return the gift of speech to them.

Mrs. Weasley's; "I _beg your pardon?_" was probably the most decent reply to the blonde's statement, not that you'd really be able to tell, with all the shouting that ensued… but it _looked_ like she'd said that…

After several moments of shouting, the adults seemed to lose the ability to speak once again, even as their mouth kept moving. Once they realized that nothing they attempted to say was being heard, their mouths snapped shut as they looked around for the culprit. And they found it in the (second) eldest of their lot.

"That will be quite enough, I think." The Hogwarts Headmaster explained sternly, meeting each of their gazed before ending the silencing charm with a simple, "_finite incantatum._" He then returned his full attention to his students, most of whom were still sobbing, those who weren't were quite clearly fighting the urge to. "You were saying?"

Draco replied when it appeared the others still couldn't speak. "She was his wife…from this world, we think. Potter was transported here; by a wish he made on a wishing cake, we think, on his birthday over the summer. Three people, elves, returned with him after he'd been here for a long time--"

"Two-thousand-one-hundred-and-forty-four years," Hermione supplied, and Draco nodded.

"Right… one of them was Ránëwén Galathil Tinehtelë, or, in our language, Violet G. Potter. Harry Potter's wife." The blonde frowned. "We never asked how long they were married, but I got the impression it'd been awhile."

"He was here for over _two thousand years?_" Remus murmured as the other adults looked on in shocked silence.

"Yes."

"That would make him -- what…"

"Two-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-nine years old," Hermione replied, wiping at her eyes to stop the seemingly endless flow of tears, her voice pained. "He wasn't a natural part of this world, so he was essentially immortal here."

"And he lived with Elves?"

"Yes…"

"Real ones?"

"Yes."

"And he married an Elf?"

"Yes…"

"A real one? One of the Eldar?"

"_Yes._"

"And now she…" Remus stopped, his eyes widening. "Is dead…"

"Yes…" Hermione nodded again, once again loosing her battle against her grief, as she broke down into sobs.

* * *

"The Ring-bearer is setting out for the Quest of Mount Doom." Lord Elrond looked over the group that had gathered before him as he continued. "On you who travel with him, neither oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will." If he noticed the look his foster-son exchanged with his distraught daughter, he didn't show it. "Farewell. May the blessing of the Elves, Men, and all Free Folk go with you."

Both Legolas and Aragorn placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed their heads, before turning as Gandalf spoke.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer."

Frodo -- after taking one last glance at the Elven realm, his eyes poignant -- turned and made his way to the gate, Gandalf stepping in behind him as he passed. As he neared it, he grew troubled. "Which way to Mordor, Gandalf? Is it left or right?" he asked, eyeing the path nervously.

"Left," the wizard replied, placing a reassuring hand on the younger being's shoulder as they led the way out of the Haven.

The last to leave was Aragorn, who stopped for a short moment, to meet the glistening eyes of the realm's princess, memorizing her every feature; engraving the way she looked in the soft-violet robes, her dark hair held back by silvery strands of pearls, into his memory, before offering her a respectful nod and turning to follow the rest of the Fellowship through the gate.

* * *

Arwen didn't let her tears fall as she looked down, that would come later, when the sun had set and the moon and stars hung overhead; when she could curl up in bed and cry into the soft silk sheets and pillows, fighting the grief that this day had wrought.

It wasn't enough that she'd lost mother two millennia past and her dearest friends not all that long afterwards. No, she had to be denied the one that had eased some of that pain as well. She had to be denied what Ránëwén had left this world for; love…deep, abiding love that she knew would transcend the Ages long after the mortal gift it was guaranteed to bring.

Now she was expected to go to the go to Valinor, the Undying Lands, to wither away within the eternal Sanctuary. She would make the journey alone. She would be guarded, yes, but her father would not leave these shores until the War ended, and her brothers didn't seem inclined to either. Her servants would be there as well, as would most of her people, but she hadn't known any of them the way she knew Ránëwén. They were acquaintances, all of them who looked to her as their lady, and therefore beyond reproach.

So she was well and truly alone, it seemed…

Such was her fate now; such was her doom…

* * *

The land Voldemort and his forces came to in was nowhere near as pleasant. Evil calls to evil, so what better a place for them to arrive on Middle Earth in than Mordor, the bane of its world? The description Boromir had given it fit remarkably well; it _was_ a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The air itself was a poisonous fume….

And _the_ _Eye_ had already seen them…

* * *

"Oy! I think he's waking up!" one of the Weasley twins called, drawing the groups attention to who they now knew was technically their eldest member, strange as that still seemed.  
  
The raven-haired wizard didn't even twitch for several moments; he just lay there, still and silent. Not enough to be considered a corpse, but more than enough for a number of people to look away, assuming that he was still unconscious and that the redhead had been mistaken.

Nevertheless, when no one around him made any suspicious actions, he finally opened his eyes. The emerald eyes he'd inherited from his mother scanned over each and every one of them so quickly one might assume that the sad, almost pitying looks their faces and souls exhibited didn't register within his mind; however it quickly became apparent that such was not so at all.  
  
Forcing himself up into a sitting position obviously took quite a bit of effort, but he did it, before looking around once again, the panicked look in his gaze quickly seeping into his face before seizing every part of his being.  
  
No one knew what to say when that gaze turned to them, glistening with exhaustion, confusion, and rapidly deteriorating hope. The adults present had only just learned of the existence of the lady they'd seen fall a short while before, and that – combined with her relation to a Harry Potter they knew so very little of – was a bit much for even the quickest of them to grasp. And the D.A. members were far too torn up by Violet's death, as many of them had gone to her for advice at some prior point or another, to offer much in the way of comfort.  
  
And even if they could, there wasn't much they could say.  
  
What did they know of the loss of a loved one?  
  
Cho knew, to some extent, yes…  
  
But none of them could comprehend the loss of someone that had been a cherished and beloved companion a millennium or more. None could expect -- or wish -- to realize the loss of a soul mate… The loss of your other half… The only ones who might understand it were those who had lost the other half of their soul, or those who'd had their whole soul stolen, perhaps by way of a Dementor's Kiss…  
  
Nonetheless, a silence such as this: uncomfortable and tension-filled, could not go on forever. Even the most distraught or lost individuals know that.  
  
So, finally, someone did break the quiescence, his usually cool tones only slightly broken by emotion. "She's not here, Potter."  
  
Harry's eyes snapped over to meet those of his childhood rival, desperate denial clear in their depths, though not voiced.  
  
"She's dead."  
  
For several moments, the silence returned, the group watching Harry as he looked into the younger blonde's gaze; searching, frantically probing for any trace of hope…and not finding it. Then the heavy silence was broken by short gasps of breath, drawn in hurriedly, as one might expect to hear from the victim of a near drowning, but that rapidly escalated to the pained gasps only someone who'd come upon Cruciatus victims might recognize.

* * *

'_She's dead…_' The words repeated themselves over and over again, an endless chorus of a simple fact that shattered every part of his being; his heart, his soul, his world all shattered by a simple phrase…  
  
'_She's dead…dead…dead…She's…dead…dead…dead…dead…She's…_'  
  
"**_No…_**" the denial came out a short, pained, and probably incoherent breath, begging for a confirmation that wasn't to come.  
  
He couldn't breathe…  
  
It was too painful…  
  
His heart, already crushed only moments before, seemed to break again and again with each and every breath.  
  
'_Why should I, anyway?_' The wizard realized, shaking his head frantically as his vision blurred with tears that quickly overflowed their banks to run down paling features set in a tortured expression. '_She's dead…dead…dead…dead…**Ránëwén** **is**…**dead**…_'  
  
That was all it took for what remained of his breakfast, and then some, to force its way up as he fell forward, the resulting waste sullying a forest floor that would've been quite familiar to him otherwise. Whether he'd want to think about that or not didn't really matter, mainly because he really didn't have the option. The reason being palpable as he'd continued falling the short distance to that very floor, while his brain simply seemed to shut down, offering him the sweet oblivion of the unconscious realm once more.  
  
And he therefore wasn't awake to see the affect a familiar, authoritative voice had on the members of his group, when it rang through the forest.

* * *

"_Ya na le?_ _Arman ta manka lyaa en Lothlórien?_"  
  
Every witch and wizard there spun around in a different direction, their wands drawn. Some of the D.A. sent off a mild hex, and a few even managed a proper _stupefy_ in the short time that it took them to realize they probably shouldn't shoot first, but what was done was done.  
  
They weren't too sure of what to expect from their questioner now. On one hand, whomever or whatever it was might not want to attack a group of armed witches and wizards. On the other, they might be like the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest; completely against Wizarding relations, and therefore just as likely, if not more so, to attack.  
  
After a number of moments of near-absolute silence, broken only by the distant calls of different birds, the same voice rang through the forest around them once again. "Wizards?"

Dumbledore didn't hesitate as the others did, simply offering a confirmative nod.

"_Handelete…_" this was said in an almost off-handed manner, not nearly as direct as its predecessor, and therefore probably not meant for their ears."What is your business in the Golden Wood?"

"Golden Wood?" Hermione smiled slightly, sharing a glance with Ron before calling out, "So this _is_ Lothlórien? Middle Earth?"

The soft conversations that this incited were made even more beautiful by the fact that they had no meaning to the wizards. Soft, lilting accents blended easily into a harmonious language that clearly transcended all others. It was a bit disappointing to hear it cut short by the present authority once more, "Of course… Now why are you here?"

"We don't know," Hermione replied quickly, ignoring her elders reproving looks in favor of the nervous, yet somewhat explanatory babble she began to discharge. "Harry cast a spell while he was fighting Voldemort--" if she had paused there, she would've noticed how silent the forest had become, "then Voldemort sent another killing curse at him, and Harry--"

"Harry?" the authority decided to cut her babbling off then, a strange note of…something, in it. "El…Harry Potter?"

Hermione nodded, rolling her eyes at Snape's muttered; "Bloody Hell, even in other worlds, he's famous…"

"Not really," all of the witches and wizards spun around to see several tall, fair-haired Elves approaching; dressed in garments that were clearly designed for camouflage in this environment. "Elerossë is beloved to the Galadhrim, and the few outside of our woods who know him. But he often tried to make himself scarce, and left many of his more heroic deeds without a hero to be recognized for them… You are friends of his?" At their nods he continued, offering a slight smile. "I, Haldir Elennsar, welcome you to Lothlórien."

* * *

"_**They should be fine, they're just exhausted, an--**_" Celeborn halted at the bottom of the stairwell that led down to the Grove, taking in his wife's pale appearance as she gazed into her mirror. "_Melda nin?_ _**What is it?**_"

"_**Pain, so much pain…**_" she murmured brokenly, her eyes filling with tears as she met his across the Grove, watching as he hurried over to take her hands.

"_**Whose pain, melda nin?**_"

"Eleross" she paused, and a shimmering tear danced sadly down a porcelain cheek."Ránëwén_… **He's in pain, Celeborn…He…**_" she stopped abruptly, shaking her head as more tears began to fall.

The Lord of the Galadhrim quickly caught her in a gentle embrace as her knees gave way, bringing a caring hand up to rub soothing circles on her back as he held her, resting his chin softly atop her head while she sobbed into his shoulder. "_**Shh…Shh, now,** melda nin,** it'll be all right…**_"

"_**No,**_" the Lady of Light gasped out, raising her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes with her own tearful ones, "_**It won't…Ce-Celebrían never healed…We don't even know if Valinor can heal her…And he can't even go there, can he? Not while the War is raging… Only Elves may pass to the Undying Lands in the midst of a war such as this. It's too… hazardous…to accept possible candidates for acceptance…But…How…So much pain…**_"

"_**Why?**_" Celeborn asked, concern coloring his tones. "_**What did you see,** melda nin?_"

The Elven Lady shook her head, "_**I couldn't see anything…Nenya wouldn't show me…It just kept showing me the Fellowship, the Eye, and anything else that was relevant to this War… I don't want to push it…for it could bring Sauron's Eye upon them…But…they're in pain…I can feel his pain…and I could feel hers too, but… I can't see her anymore…Her presence is…shadowed…**_"

"**_Shadowed?_**" the Elf-Lord repeated, alarmed. "_**In what way?**_"

"**_I…I do not know…_"** the Lady of Light shook her head. "_**I wish I did…**_"

* * *

Hermione sighed, make yet another effort to offer the beautiful realm they were moving through the appreciation it so clearly deserved, but worry, confusion, and grief were not sentiments that the heart dealt with casually.

The mind that had made the Sorting Hat come so close to sending her to Ravenclaw House was compiling more and more questions, some of which would never be answered, at a rate that would leave most completely befuddled.

What happened?

How did they get here?

What was going on?

Were these nearly ethereal beings really Harry's friends?

They seemed to be, and Mr. Elennsar certainly hadn't been the only one present who'd been concerned when they'd realized Harry was there…

**_

* * *

Flashback

* * *

_**

_"I beg your pardon, sir, but do you have any medical supplies with you? Potions or draughts?" Madam Pomfrey inquired politely, a dedicated healer even in the most bizarre of situations._

_"Yes, of course," the Elf replied amiably, not even blinking. "Is a member of your party injured?"_

_"I hope not," the medi-witch replied with a sigh, "But I'm afraid that Mr. Potter had--"_

_"Harry?" the Elf was frowning now and his voice was not quite as detached as it had previously been. "Elerossë is here?"_

_"Ell-er-rose?" the witch attempted to repeat, clearly puzzled._

_"Elerossë," Hermione corrected, "that's Harry's Elven name. And yes," she nodded, turning to make her way over to where her friend had fallen. The concern that had dominated her mind before to the surprise of the Elves' arrival returned all too quickly as she surveyed her friend's exhausted form once again, despite Mrs. Weasley's maternal efforts, there hadn't been much she could do in such a diminutive amount of time, short of turning him over and cleaning his face up a bit. _

_Several elves were at his side, their leader kneeling, before most of the Wizarding group knew that they were moving. They were visibly worried now, not anywhere near as aloof as they'd been only moments before._

_"What happened?" Elennsar Haldir inquired grimly as he quickly scanned the wizard for damage, taking his pulse and temperature. "It looks like he had a _nwalyáor

_"A what?" Madam Pomfrey inquired, blinking._

_"A _nwalyáor_," another elf, who they would've noticed looked quite a bit like the other if they had cared to look, replied helpfully, when his captain did not look up. "Usually, it is only found to this extent, or more severe, in out kind, but mortals are said to experience it occasion as well. It is an ailment of the heart, experienced when one witnessed a horrendous deed… or the fall of a loved one." At that, he stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm. "Where is Ránëwén?"_

**_

* * *

End of Flashback

* * *

_**

The witch shook her head with yet another sigh. Considering the Elves reaction to Harry's condition, combined with how carefully they were caring for him now, and how they'd reacted to the news of Violet's death…it was hard to believe they were anything but friends.

At the very least, they deserved a chance. Which, fortunately, was what the Headmaster was prepared to give them?

She didn't know much about the Eldar race. Regardless of the numerous hours she'd spent researching it after meeting Violet, the Wizarding world simply didn't know much about them… They were said to be tall, fair beings -- with extraordinary grace and wisdom -- that lived forever, unless -- Violet had explained that -- they willingly bound themselves to a mortal, or were slain by another…

Very different from the House Elves, it was easy to see. Though, the founder of S.P.E.W. herself was quite pleased to find that there were people that might be able to convince the House Elves -- or the 'Celahir', as Violet had called them -- of the virtues of independence. Although, she had to admit that Violet was right in saying that; 'A time of war is not when such banners should be raised'. Which was why she'd set that banner down for the time, even as Ron's comment; 'They've been this way for _ages_, 'Mione! A few more years won't hurt them!' had stung, quite a bit…

Still, more questions continued to arise due to their current situation. But the most pressing one for the moment was why she'd made her way up to the front of the part, to ask, albeit timidly, "Is he going to be all right?"

The Captain turned his head slightly to meet her gaze, even as he continued walking, an affable smile softening his wearied, but nonetheless handsome features. "He should be fine. The city is not far from here, and the Lady Galadriel is awaiting our arrival. Once in her care, he should heal quite rapidly."

After offering her a nod, he moved further down the supposed 'path' they were walking on, to speak to one of the younger Elves, leaving her standing there, her eyes wide as the Elves carrying Harry's stretcher, -- as they had been since they'd set out across the forest, several hours before -- leaving her behind.

"What is it, 'Mione?" Ron asked softly when he and several other members of their group had caught up. It wasn't that they were untrusting, the Elven Captain had simply told them to remain in between the divided Elven group, for their own protection. "Is Harry all right?"

Hermione jumped slightly a moment later, when her friend put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes inquisitive as he pointedly kept her moving down the path. "Wh-What? Oh, no, no, Harry's fine…"

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing…" the teenage witch shook her head. "Nothing… it's just something Mr. Elennsar said…"

"What was it?" Neville inquired when she paused again.

"Ron…" Hermione continued slowly, speaking very softly, so much so that it was clear that she hoped only the other witches and wizards could hear her. "D-Do you remember what Harry's foster mother's name was?"

"Umm…I'm not sure…" the redhead frowned, "I think it began with a 'G'…"

"Galadriel…" everyone looked back slightly at Cho Chang, making the Ravenclaw blush slightly. "At least that's what I think it was…"

Hermione nodded slowly, sighing. "That's what I thought…" And before anyone could question that, she moved further down the path again, under the pretence of checking her friend's health once more.

* * *

"I amar prestar aen…" Galadriel murmured, gazing into her Mirror, the hand that bore Nenya drifting just above the surface of the water. "Han mathon ne nen…" she closed her eyes, tilting her head back slightly. "Han mathon ne chae," then she opened them once again, looking up at the stars above, "A han noston ned 'wilith…" AN: Translations for that are at the end…though you really shouldn't need them if you've watched _the Fellowship_ and/or _the Two Towers_ half as many times as I have…

"_**What had changed, my love?**_" Lord Celeborn asked her quietly, while finishing his descent down the steps that led to the Grove, his gaze worried.

Nenya's Keeper drew her hand back from the Mirror, closing her eyes as she stepped away from it. "_**How are they?**_"

"_**Camthalion, Rúmil and their companions are well enough, it seems they just had a rather strong magical shock. They should wake soon.**_"

"_**Hannon I'Vala…**_" she murmured quietly, before opening her eyes to meet her husbands gaze.

The Grey-Prince met her glittering eyes easily, long accustom to the wisdom and beauty weighed within. He repeated his previous question quietly. "_**What had changed, my love?**_"

Galadriel closed her eyes, grimacing slightly as she replied. "**_Everything…_**"

"_**Everything?**_" the Lord of the Galadhrim repeated with a frown.

She nodded, glancing back at her Mirror before making her way around it, making her way over to her partner of well past an Age. "_**The twins' companions were not the only people of Eleross's world that were brought here… Two large groups have arrives as well. One of Dark, one of Light. The Light is made up of his friends, peers, teachers and some of their comrades. The Dark is made up of…**_"

"_Voldemort **and his** Death Eaters._" Celeborn realized with a sigh.

"Uma…"

"_**So now the Dark Lord has an army of wizards at his command, not just one…**_"

Galadriel nodded once again, "Uma…_Though it isn't quite as bad as that…and yet it's worse… The wizards of that world, remember, don't recognize magic the way our world does…_"

"_**So they aren't as powerful as Saruman… But they use magic for many more things, including combat, which is rarely seen here. And that gives the Ring Lord a terrible advantage…**_"

"_**If the Light wizards will not fight,** _uma," the Lady of Light confirmed.

"_**But they will?**_"

The Lady nodded, closing her eyes, "_**They are warriors…They will fight. But… I don't know how much they will be able to do… Nenya has rarely seen such power before. It doesn't know what to show me… I can't really see much of what this may cause… With the exception of what Elerossë spoke of…**_"

"_**And the Fellowship cannot be warned?**_"

"_No…_" Galadriel closed her eyes, and her shimmering, golden hair flowed back and forth as she shook her head slightly. "_**They have already set out on their Quest, Elrond, if he knows what is happening, cannot warn them of it, and I dare not try to contact Mithrandir through the waters… I can barely see his presence through the Shadows as it is…**_"

"**_Someone will need to warn them,_"** Celeborn pointed out, shaking his head.

After a moment, his lady shook her head. "_**Let us wait until Elerossë may offer his advice… Though he is young, this is a foe that we truly do not know…**_"

The Lord of Lothlorien was silent for several moments, but then he nodded with a sigh. "Be iest lîn." He offered a gentle smile as he took her hand and bowed over it, placing a chaste kiss on its surface.

Galadriel returned the smile with a hesitant one, which suddenly turned to a slight frown as her eyes became distant. "_**They're here…**_"****

* * *

"Caras Galadhon," Haldir offered as the Wizarding group they'd been leading through the wood finally reached the hilltop he'd been waiting on. "The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn, and of Galadriel, Lady of Light…" He smirked slightly at the awed expressions many of them bore, before continuing on his way, the other guards following; two of them carrying the Lady's foster-son on a stretcher.

May of the witches and wizards present had to scurry down the hill after them, when they finally shook themselves free of their stupor. That was yet another sign of their youth, though one the Elves weren't entirely unused to seeing…

Though really, it was a wonder the group didn't freeze up several times as they entered and made their way through the fair city.

The choir was practicing again, their clear, melodious voices ringing through city as clearly as always, beauty in every sense of the word, even as the songs they now sung were far more mournful than they'd once been.

The city's elegant architecture, built in the Elven fashion, and therefore designed to gracefully enhance the environment it had been built in was undoubtedly unlike anything most of them had seen before. The lighting clearly amazed them, and it wasn't any wonder really. Harry had once said that the Elven lights, lit by magic, looked like stars that had been taken down from the heavens, as was most probably their intent.

The pure white light that lit the cities tallest treetops, and the palace that was wrapped around them were even more magnificent though, and designed to impress; which they certainly did.

Once inside that very building, Haldir led them over to the archway on the other side, and bowed to his Lord and Lady, who stood at the top of the steps on the other side. He then stepped aside, to leave the guests to them.

Hermione wasn't the only one that was watching the pair that was coming towards them. She knew that this was undoubtedly the lord and lady of this realm, as Mr. Elennsar had stated earlier, the Lord Celeborn and the Lady of Light, Galadriel…Harry's foster-mother. It was a bit much for her mind to comprehend though, and it made it quite obvious why everything had seemed so child-like to Harry…

Even if she didn't know that this city had been there when Harry had arrived, and had remained throughout the entire duration of his stay, she'd _know_ that this city predated Hogwarts. The Wizarding School's age and design and…well, everything, seemed just so… insignificant… so _mortal_, when compared to this…

The Lord and Lady seemed to be cloaked in the same radiance the room itself was. Though that may've been the room's light reflecting off of them. It dimmed slightly when they reached the bottom of the steps though, allowing them to make out their hosts' Elven features.

Lord Celeborn, clothed in long, glimmering gray robes, watched them with gray eyes that held the wisdom of time and endurance…

Galadriel, the Lady of Light certainly dressed the part, clothed in a silky gown the purest white that clung to her willowy frame and enhanced the inner light of her being. Her sapphire-blue eyes seemed to hold both the darkness of the night sky, and the light of the stars that usually adorned it, dimmed only slightly by the wisdom of several millennia.

The smile she offered was warm and hospitable, and it served to bring Hermione and several others out of the daze the pair's arrival had induced. "Welcome to Lothlórien…"

* * *

**_End Chapter 12.

* * *

_**

**Translations:**

_Entulesse a Arda_ - Return to Ardo (Middle Earth world)

_Nai Vala_ - By the Valar

_Ya na le?_ - Who are you?

_Arman ta manka lyaa en Lothlorien?_ - And what is your business in Lothlorien?

_Handelete…_ - Interesting

_Elennsar_ - March warden I couldn't find a surname for him, so I just gave him one… He's called the "March warden" of Lothlórien, so I translated that and used it.

_Nwalyáor _- Pained heart

_I amar prestar aen…_- The world is changed…__

_Han mathon ne nen…_- I can feel it in the water… __

_Han mathon ne chae…_ -I can feel it in the earth…__

_A han noston ned 'wilith…_ - I can smell it in the air…

_Be iest lîn._ - According to your wish.

* * *

**Review Responses**** will be available on the There and Back Again Mailing List. Sorry for any trouble this may cause.**

**AN****: LOL, well, I'm impressed. 56 Reviews! At this rate I'll have to keep updating the fic (instead of working on my other ones)!**

**Well, what'd you think of this chapter?**

**I should be able to get the next chapter out next weekend; I'll try, at least. This next week certainly can't be as busy as this one was! But I do have some exciting news! (If you read the note at the beginning, you'd already know, but…)**

**1. NO MORE EXAMS!!! :-D (Be happy, that means less waiting for you!)**

**2. I'm an aunt! My niece was born yesterday! She's the sweetest little thing! She cried a little, but I can't really blame her. I mean, she had to come into the world all of are living in! (And everyone was passing her around, which couldn't have been fun…) I got to hold her for nearly twenty minutes though! And she didn't cry at all! …I probably won't get to see her again for a week or two, but I'm still happy!**

**Umm…well…that's all that I can think of for now!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!**

**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	14. Chapter 13: Nierme Oior

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling; Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

There and Back Again

_Chapter 13: __Nierme Oior___

**By Jess S**

"Is that really the…wisest course of action, my lord?" one of the masked Death Eaters inquired nervously, his voice hesitant. "To accept form a coalition of sorts with a potent phantom?" 

"It is the wisest course of action we might take, young one." The Dark Lord told the teenager, one of the Slytherins that had been pulled to Middle Earth with his elders. The shock of finding themselves on another world had apparently had a rather pleasant effect on the way the Heir of Slytherin treated his followers. Whereas before, on Earth, he'd been in a foul temper, frequently hexing his supporters, and using the Cruciatus Curse on them with disturbingly increasing frequency, now; on Middle Earth, he seemed more like the leader they remembered. Now, Lord Voldemort had become the personification of everything Slytherin once more: decisive, but charming, ruthless, but practical. This was undoubtedly why the teen wasn't writhing on the floor in pain.  "We know very little of this world, and yet common sense would tell us that an evil as great as this…phantom, could only be held back by an equally powerful alliance of 'good'. On our own, we might not stand a chance against such opposition, but by joining forces with our new friend; we could very well be what sees the malevolent forces of this Middle Earth, dominant."

"So your answer is positive then, my lord?"  One of the older Death Eaters inquired in a neutral tone.  "We are to serve this phantom and the…beasts that worship it?"

Voldemort laughed coldly, "Oh no, Avery, not serve, never serve. You have sworn your allegiance to me, and I will swear friendship and camaraderie to this… Ring Lord, as he calls himself… He wishes to obtain a solid form, so we shall strive to make this possible. His forces need control and influence that most of his minions are incapable of handling, so we shall lend him a hand there as well. But make no mistake, _I_ am your Lord, and I serve no one." 

~ * ~

The void that serves as the dominion of cataleptic psyche is a quite unusual place, a piece of information that you probably aren't prone to appreciate in your commonplace, reoccurring departures from it. One may cling to it, in exodus, yearning to hold onto that painless, effortless world that so often serves as a sanctuary for so many.

Some might claim to feel no such loyalty. They might consider themselves about the desire due to a love of life that few others can comprehend. Even they, however, must note the haven in times of hardship. The most common time would be after one had been sedated, whether it is by concussion, hormones, physical or emotional pain, something sent them to that world, away from life's hardships at least for a short while, and even when they don't know what it is, it makes the refuge that much more difficult to leave. 

But we do return to the waking world, no matter how much we might not want to. In worlds such as Arda, where magic is practiced, that natural impulse can be stopped. The very same impulse can be prevented by poisons, and illnesses that pull us away from the living world, into its mere shade; death.

Harry was not under spell to send him under, though. He had not been poisoned, and he was not physically ill. It wouldn't take him long to realize that what had sent him under was a sickness of the heart, the emotional turmoil he might never be able to escape. At the moment, however, he was not aware of this. 

The room he was a large, elegantly assembled bedroom that was one of the chambers he'd long called his own; a branch of the palace in the center of Lothlórien. That was, undoubtedly, why it felt familiar, in and of itself. 

Soft, silky sheets formed a gentle, loose-fitting cocoon underneath a white bedspread with the green and gold leaf pattern of the Galadhrim carefully embroidered onto its surface. The bed's mattress easily matched or surpassed that had been so impressive to his young mind, when he'd first gone to Hogwarts, long ago. The air was filled with song, and the sweet aroma of the Lissium blossoms, which bloomed on the nearby Cerin Amroth alone, and could be found in no other part of Middle Earth. The pale, silvery lights the Galadhrim used for illumination served another purpose, more often then not, in soothing the hearts of those who entered the Elven metropolis with good intent.

  
It was named for the fair gardens of the Dream Master for a reason, as it served the purpose on Middle Earth. Whereas the Valar, Maiar, and many Eldar often went to Lórien's gardens to seek peace and healing, many mortals and Eldar who did not yet wish to cross the Seas came here…or they once did.

That was before the Ring Lord, Sauron, launched his assault upon the mortal world. Now, the fair city was cloaked in mystery, veiled and closely protected both by its guards, and the magical protections its Lady had woven around it a long time before…

Harry knew all of this, of course. He'd learned of Arda's histories a long time before returning to his own world. It didn't really cross his mind though, not when he first woke up to find himself there, lovingly tucked-away in his bedroom.

It did seem a little odd though.

'_What am I doing here?_' He wondered immediately, knowing that he wouldn't have been puzzled, if he'd waken up in the master bedroom of the _telain_ he'd shared with Ránëwén, since they're wedding, several centuries before. '_Ránëwén…_'

Amazing, isn't it, how quickly one's thoughts can lead to the cause of a pain, particularly one so great?

The mere thought of his wife, and the realization that she really was gone was enough to break whatever self-control he'd had left, which wasn't much. His lament added discord to the mourning song he could hear in the distance, and served to bring his foster parents running.

By the time they'd arrived his earlier tears had returned, to rush down his cheeks in a flood of desolation so heartbreaking that neither parent could move beyond the room's threshold for several moments.

Then, the Lady's maternal instincts sent her forward, hurrying over to the bed, to take her foster son into her arms, even as she encased his mind in telepathic waves of warmth and love. "_Shh, shhh… yondo nin, shhh…_" she breathed gently, carefully drawing him into her protective embrace, even as her husband sat down in the chair beside the bed, offering his silent support. "_It's all right… Shhh…_"

"_W-Was it a dream? A-a nightmare?_"

"_Man?_" Galadriel leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, which were gazing up at her through a well of tears, anguish, and only a small amount of hope. It nearly broke her heart to shake her head and, in doing so, shatter that hope. "_Lau… No, it was not a nightmare, yondo nin…_"

Both Elves were more than a little worried when the wizard's breathing began to increase, but it was Celeborn that found a solution for it. "_He should meditate…_" he told his wife quietly.

The Lady of Light nodded, tenderly smoothing back the child's raven hair. "_I want you to meditate for me… Can you do that, melme?_"

"_U-uma…._" Harry replied unsteadily, "_I… I think so…_"

"_Er'suuya…mi…et…mi…et…_"  {Just breathe…  In…  Out…  In…  Out…}

For several hours, Harry followed his foster mother's soft commands, inhaling when she told him to, and exhaling to the commands that always followed. 

Now, of course, it couldn't be that easy to _forget_ something like this. And one of the major points of meditation, clearing your mind; was to gain focus. But that takes time, and finding the proper focus isn't painless.

"_I'm sorry…_"

Galadriel blinked down at her foster-son, her worry augmenting once again when she saw the desolation in his lowered gaze. Some might make the mistake of thinking that he was apologizing to _them_, but she was a very accomplished healer, had plenty of experience with matters of the heart, and she _knew_ the son of her heart. 

"_I'm so sorry…_" the wizard shook his head, tears creeping out of his eyes as he stared at the floor.

Noticing that he'd completely lost track of his breathing count, as he was now very close to those same heartrending gasps, she spoke up in a soothing, compassionate tone. "Ta ilosse le…" {It's not your fault…}

"Yes it **is**…" Harry told her, finally looking up from the floor, not paying his tear stained face any mind. "I--I lost focus… I don't know **why** I used **that** spell. I should have realized that my world wasn't **open** like Arda, so it wouldn't be disposed to assist… I could have done something much smaller… I probably didn't even need to **use** Istari magic…And even then… I could have Apparated! If I'd been thinking I could have grabbed her and taken us both out of harms way! I'm **completely** to blame! If--"

"**No you are not.**" Galadriel cut in, her voice still empathetic in the common tongue, though fairly hardened by the words she was utilizing. "There are times when there's nothing we can do to. I'd hate to think that it was Vair's Will, but it may have been. You were fighting for what you believed in; what was right. You were protecting your home and your loved ones, just as she was. Would you not allow her the honor of a true heroine's death? Make her sacrifice a futile endeavor?"

He blinked, clearly taken aback as he considered this. His foster parents waited patiently, apparently unaffected by the long silence that surrounded his thoughts. After several moments he shook his head slowly, "No…No, of course not… It is an honor she deserves as much as any…But…I…"

"_You miss her,_" the Lady of Light précised, continuing after his only just visible nod, giving up on trying to catch his eyes; which were focused on the flooring once more. "That is natural, of course. But she would not want you to wither away because of her love. Especially if she is not dead."

Here the wizard's head snapped up as he moved his gaze away from the floor again, to stare at her, his eyes wide. "Wh-What?"

"Logically, she was right next to you, and a supporter of the Light, so she should have arrived here to, dead or not. With no body to prove her death, she may yet be alive…  Supper should be ready now; would you like to wash up and then join us, or take it abed?" 

"I-I'll join you," he said immediately, rising somewhat shakily, but at least the despondent air that had been hovering around him had dissipated somewhat. "I'll be down in a few minutes…"

Galadriel nodded, also rising, and reached out to draw him to her again, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before releasing him and following her husband to the door.

Celeborn was silent until they heard water splashing from the bathing area, and then he spoke as they stepped out onto the terrace before making their way across the elegant bridge that connected the _telain_ to their own.  "_Are you sure that was wise, melda nin?_"

"_Perhaps not,_" the Lady sighed, shaking her head as she closed her eyes in regret. "_But I truly couldn't think of anything else…and it is possible._"

"_Possible, yes,_" the Lord of the Galadhrim agreed, shaking his head as he held her regular chair for her to sit at the table. "_But likely?_"

"_Elerossë will be joining us,_" she told the waiting servant, continuing after the servant had nodded and departed quickly.  "_He needed something to hope for… The loss of a soul mate isn't something many survive. As long as there is hope…He has a chance… We all do._"

~ * ~

"What _is_ that?" Ron asked, after several moments of silence.

An Elf-maiden, who had introduced herself as Tári, had led them to this _telain_ a short time before, and while they had a number of questions to ask, somehow they just knew that now was not the time.  But, with the quiet conversations they'd all been participating in gone, the quiet, rather sad song, produced by a breathtaking chorale somewhere in the Elven city, rang all too clearly through the room they now sat in, 'enjoying' supper. 

Tári had led them here and then left, to return a few moments later to direct other maids towards the table they were now sitting around, to deposit the food they'd brought there.  Many of the maids bowed slightly, a melancholy air clinging to them, before leaving, but their leader remained behind to answer the young wizard's question.

"It is a lament, for the Lady Ránëwén."

"A what?"  Colin Creevey inquired hesitantly, looking around at the now equally depressed expressions of his teachers, peers and elders.

"A lament," Hermione repeated quietly, before going on to explain, "for Violet.  An expression of their grief at her…passing."

"And a commemoration of her life," the Elf-maid nodded, offering a kind smile. "Death is not something that pierces the Lady's veil very often. It is hard for us to accept the passing of one of our own, particularly one that we all knew, and loved, so well…"

"What was she like?"

The Elf blinked, "Pardon?"

"Violet…what was she like?" Ron asked, looking up to meet her eyes. "We only knew her for a few short weeks…  She seemed really nice, and she obviously loved Harry, but…  We don't know much more then that…  We didn't get the chance…  And I…  I don't think that asking Harry when he wakes up would be a good idea…"

"No…" Tári shook her head; her pale silvery-blonde locks rustling slightly at the diminutive action. "The grief will be far too near his heart for some time to come…" she paused, clearly reminiscent, continuing once she'd collected her thoughts.  "She was somewhat unusual in her birth.  Her mother was of Imladris, the realm of Lord Elrond, and was part human. Her mortal ancestry, though very distant, showed in her dark-tresses. She was named for her eyes, which were often likened to the stars in the late-twilight…"

Hermione spoke up after the Elf had been silent for some time, "Her mother was from Imladris, right?"

"Uma," the Elf nodded, picking up that thought, "Lady Enelya was one of the minor nobles of Imladris. She wedded Master Angaráto Calaelen shortly after the Fall of Numenor. They'd met when he'd come to Imladris, as the captain of Lady Celebrían's guard…"

Again, the wizards were made to wait in silence for several moments, before another decided to break into the Elf's thoughts.

"What happened to them?"

"Ma--What?"

"Vi--Ránëwén's parents," Cho Chang clarified, "What happened to them?"

"They were part of Lady Celebrían's escort the last time she made her way home, and fell with all the rest when it was ambushed by Orcs…" Tari bowed slightly, "If you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I have much to do before turning in. Enjoy your meal."

~ * ~

Harry sighed as the cool, crystalline droplets of water ran down his face and neck, to seep into the collar of his pyjamas.  There was a sensation of soothing-ness in that, however small. The pain had not depleted, quite the contrary, it had withdrawn, to the far recesses of his heart and mind, to become a steady, relentless ache hidden only by the hope that it might not be necessary.

He knew that his foster-kin were trying to help him, but the temptation of the escape his foster-mother had offered was far too ideal to repudiate outright. It was what he needed; a sense of hope, of optimism to make him rise every day. It was what might allow him to look past the fact that she wasn't there. If she was _anywhere_ he could reach, alive, then he would find her. He **_had_** to.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a familiar knock coming from the door. The familiarity was both heartening and depressing, because he knew exactly who it was. "_Lende mi…_" he called as he made his way back out through his bedroom and into the small lounge area that opened onto the terrace, looking down as his caller entered the room.  "_Mae govannen…_"

A gentle, but firm hand at his chin forced him to look up a few moments later, and only then did the March Warden of Lothlórien reply, "_Mae govannen, Elerossë._" 

The (much) elder being's voice was like his touch, gentle but unyielding, which only made sense, considering his moderately Spartan daily life.  But more could be seen in his grey eyes then Harry was used to seeing. Usually his mentor was a master of the Elven preference of keeping his expressions carefully schooled to neutrality, even in the presence of his kin. He'd led a hard life, so it was only to be expected…  But now…  This was probably the third time he'd seen such expression in the warden's eyes. 

The first was when they'd been wandering to Imladris, Harry's first time outside of the borders of the Golden Wood… He'd gotten into quite a bit of trouble back then… 

Harry _had_ known at the time that he probably shouldn't have gone hunting alone, but he'd wanted to prove that he was capable of doing so…Why that was, he couldn't exactly recall. Looking back on it, he knew that the only reason Haldir had told him to stay close was because he was in unfamiliar territory, and they didn't know what dangers might await them. But, when he was younger, he'd taken it as doubt towards his abilities… So he _had_ gone hunting, alone.

Now, hunting alone in unfamiliar territory was a bad idea in general. But hunting alone, at night, in unfamiliar territory was certainly a lesser relative of suicide. 

**_~ *Flashback* ~_**

_It wasn't hard to see why the members of the Eldar race were so fond of the night…at least; it wasn't hard to see when you could actually **see** the stars. Varda's magnificent gift to the world was truly a wonder to behold, but their absence was almost as depressing as their presence was inspiring. Now, hidden behind the dark storm clouds that Haldir predicted would release their mighty flood some time tonight…Harry had no choice but to accept that it certainly was a wretched time to be hunting. _

_But, he needed to prove to his guide and mentor that he **could** hold his own on this trip… _

_The fact that he simply couldn't find **anything** certainly didn't help matters. It seemed that Haldir wasn't the only one who wished to set camp early this evening. None of the normal predators seemed to be out. Sure, he could hear a few birds now and then, the scurrying of various rodents and the ordinary symphonies the insects provided but…  It was still oddly quiet…_

_After a few more minutes of looking around for something, **anything** that might indicate a possible prey, Harry sighed in defeat, deciding to turn back to camp. He didn't bother moving quite as silently nor as vigilantly as he had before. He wasn't looking to catch anything, so he didn't care if he scared any possible prey off. _

_Instead, his thoughts were turned inward, where they seemed to like being a lot as of late. Now, they were tied up in reprimanding him for his lack of success. How was he supposed to be of any use to anyone on Arda or Earth if he couldn't even hold his own in a friendly partnership?_

_Of course, his mind still prone to the insecurities of youth didn't register that he might be in danger in the dark, dreary wood he was walking through. And, in retrospect, he had to admit that Moody's favorite saying 'Constant Vigilance!' was certainly just as important as the somewhat paranoid, retired Auror made it out to be. It was too bad for him that he didn't realize that **before** he walked into the waiting trap._

_For that was the only thing it could be, really.  Though it took him a few moments of struggling to realize that.  He might have been able to escape if he'd had his dagger or his wand drawn, but he didn't. The sticky material that clung to all around him, its hold on him only strengthening as he struggled, was indeed a very clever trap._

_After this realization came a second, that of what exactly it had to be. The only thing it could be, of course, was the web of one of the great spiders that had survived the fall of Beleriand. There weren't that many of them, but most of the survivors haunted dark woodlands, such as these, or the even darker caves in the Shadowy Mountains. It was rumored that some now haunted the former Eryn Lasgalen, now called Mirkwood, for the darkness that was overrunning its domain. _

_A large part of him hoped that this was simply a web that a wondering spider had left behind, while searching for filling hunting grounds. After all, this wasn't a very good place. The wildlife was scarce, though that could very well be because of the spider, and it was only a little over a weeks ride from Lothlórien, with the Misty Mountains looming off in the distance. The only prey that could really be expected were those on their way to Lothlórien, and anyone who wasn't experienced enough to handle themselves, such as an Elven warrior or perhaps one of Dúnedain Rangers, traveled in caravans… _

_But that hope was crushed when, after several moments of remaining absolutely still, and listening, he felt a slight tug from the right side of the webbing, which meant its creator knew he was there, and was coming._

_This caused a chill of sheer terror to rush through the young wizard's body.  Of all the monsters he had to run into now, when Haldir **didn't** know where he was or that he might be in danger, it had to be one of those he'd been taught to fear the most. _

_The Great Spiders of Arda weren't like Aragog and his kin. They were among the foulest beings that had ever walked these lands. Some were the descendents of Ungoliant, the infamous destroyer of the Trees of the Valar, who even Melkor learned to fear. They were truly **dark** creatures, their very natures comprised mainly of envy, insatiable voracity and unreserved malevolence. It was said most of the spiders around today weren't anywhere near the size of their great ancestors, but they could populate an area more quickly then almost any other creature, so their numbers gave them strength in places like Mirkwood and they'd developed an heightened perception with regards to their wicked craft of entrapment. _

_It was much nearer now; the tugging was stronger, and he could hear it approaching through the gloomy treetops. Therefore, it wasn't long before he heard its eagerness in the terrible way it twisted the Common Tongue of Men with the Black Speech. [AN: Note that whenever it's talking it **should** sound like what I just said, but I don't know much of the Black Speech, and I may not be able to make the dialogue quite as crude as that…if at all. Sorry_ :(_] "What is this we have here?  We's are thinking that it must be an elf…A young elf, yes…They're the only ones that come by at all really…but the older ones never get caught…We like the taste of elf blood, yes…"_

_And then he felt himself being lifted rapidly upward by the webbing he was caught in, and then he was spun around several times, until he was securely wrapped in the spiders mesh, before it stopped to take a closer look at him, its many, dark eyes… intrigued?_

_"What is this? It looks like no elf? Does not glow…no…  A young Ranger then?  Well, very well… We's are hungry, so we don't really care…"_

_And that was all it said before it began spinning him again, until his entire body was encased in webbing, which had hardened somewhat into an inescapable prison. He couldn't see anything then, could only quake in terror as he felt it carrying him away, unable to see where it was going thanks to the thick netting around his face, which barely let him breath. Escape wasn't possible… He knew that. He couldn't move at all, so that ruled out his wand and his Elven weapons…_

_By the time his captor finally stopped, Harry was at wits end. What could he do? He could barely tell up from down in this terrible cocoon, how could he free himself? Yes, the webbing had hardened somewhat, but it was still sticky enough that struggling was more hindrance than help. _

_Then all conscious thought vanished as a sharp pain in his abdomen signaled penetration, drawing a wounded cry from him. The throbbing ache echoed through his body, augmenting to new heights almost as quickly as the sense of helplessness he now felt._

**_~ Haldir's Point of View ~_**__

_[AN: Yes, I realize that Harry wouldn't remember anything from Haldir's POV, but telling the next part solely from Harry's POV would be pretty boring so…Writers license. :-P]_

_The March Warden of the Golden Wood was **not** in a good mood. It hadn't taken him a particularly long time to realize that his Lord and Lady's foster son was missing, but it had taken far longer than it should have. Elerossë had been clever, to be sure, setting up his sleeping mat the way he did and then sneaking off at precisely the right time. _

_Haldir had suspected something of this nature might occur early on in the trip, but to deliberately disappear in the middle of the night? What was the boy thinking?!_

_Well, actually, what he was thinking was fairly obvious; for some reason Harry felt that Haldir's protectiveness was due to his own colossal failings. In a way it was, Harry simply didn't have the experience to **know** the dangers around him all the time. That was why Haldir had chosen to go with him, as a guide and protector. The child wouldn't really be able to learn anything with a full division of guards around him, so having a single, very experienced guard was the only other option. He liked the boy, and he hadn't left the Golden Wood in some time, so, why not?_

**_This_**_ would be why not! The boy had deliberately 'given him the slip' in an effort to prove some non-essential thing. What could he possibly hope to prove in this escapade? Proof of adulthood?  Hardly._

_It didn't help that Harry seemed to have gone a fair distance from the camp, and wandered right into the area of the woodland that Haldir had made every effort to avoid. He'd sensed something evil from around here. That was why he'd taken the extra day's hike of going around it, along the river: a far more pleasant journey, and more practical. He'd planned on coming back here whenever they returned home, that time with an experience hunting party, to root out whatever it was that haunted these woods._

_What that was, was now quite obvious. At least one spider had obviously spent a great deal of time weaving its trappings in this area. His enhanced sight made it easy enough to slip around all of the ensnarements that were close to the ground, but from the tracks he was following, Harry had only really missed them by **luck**. He wasn't even paying attention to where he was going!_

_His anger and concern reached new levels at that realization, which caused him to increase his already rapid pace to what could be considered a conservative run. It therefore wasn't long before he reached the place where Harry apparently stopped, then decided to turn back in the direction of their camp, going a slightly different route…one which would probably lead him right through some of the arachnid monstrosities' traps. _

_Now he was running, his wholly honed Elven heritage still making his footfalls almost invisible on the ground he was crossing, but not quite. Then he came upon a sight that made him stop dead in his tracks, his eyes wide with horror. _

_One of the webs that had obviously been laid out, right in Harry's path, had been drawn in, undoubtedly once the young wizard had been caught in it. _

_The Eldar warrior forced himself to continue breathing at a steady, constructive rate; his mind quickly moving into high gear. His grey eyes quickly moved to the treetops above the cleanly broken webbing, where a large creature had clearly passed through a short time before. _

_Following the creatures trail wasn't easy, that's why it stuck to the treetops. It meant that any pursuer had to keep an eye on the 'track', the ground in front of them, and the area around them. Very difficult for even the most experienced warrior, to be sure.  But this wasn't the first time he'd hunted a monster of this sort. _

_The sound of a familiar, aggrieved cry a short distance ahead of him was all he needed to know his path was right, and then he didn't need to watch the treetops quite so closely, nor did he care to.  By then he was well and truly running through the dark woodlands, an arrow already on his bow, where it had been for quite some time, wait to be of use._

_The creature was making no effort to be inconspicuous; that much was clear as he reached the clearing it had chosen to feast in. It obviously hadn't eaten in quite some time, so was wasting no time in enjoying its catch. _

_By the time that thought had registered, the March Warden had already entered the clearing, come to the stop, raised his bow and let the arrow fly. _

_Hunger had a powerful calling, but the pain of an arrow sinking into its backside was more then enough to draw the monster away from its meal, to turn its attention to its attacker. But turning to face was one of the worse things it could have done, for that left its precious eyes, vulnerable to attack. He wasted no time in taking advantage of that target, ruining a number of the dark, beady instruments before it managed to launch its own offensive. _

_The manner in which it chose to attack, though, was surely the worst thing it could do. By leaping at him, it opened its soft underbelly for attack._

_And that was really all it took to bring it down; one arrow to the heart. Then it lay on the ground, spasming as it released its death throws. _

_He didn't really care about the creature. Quickly severing its head from its body was more for the large piece of his mind that didn't want such an enemy at his back, more then it was for pity to the monster itself._

_Then he quickly made his way over to the cocoon of slightly hardened webbing the spider had dropped upon his arrival. The grayish-white envelope was broken only by the hole in the middle, which was leaking blood._

_He winced at the sight, though it wasn't unexpected, then he began cutting into the tight prison with careful, sensitive cuts, to make sure that he didn't do his young friend more harm. It took some time to free the young wizard from the webbing, and the Elven warrior honestly wasn't surprised by the wide-eyed, unconscious state he found his 'mortal' friend in._

_The spider had been feeding, which meant he still probably had some of the venom of its bite in his veins, and was therefore paralyzed._

_The Elf shook his head, releasing a soft sigh before he wrapped some of the webbing he'd just freed the boy from around his middle, to slow the flow of blood until he could treat it. Then he picked the boy up, carrying him out of the clearing and back to their camp like the child he truly was._

**_~ *End of Flashback* ~_******

Harry hadn't woken up from that drugged state for several days, according to his wife's uncle. And it had taken him a number of weeks to recover from the incident, his wound needing time to heal, along with the careful attention Haldir readily provided. If he'd felt useless before it was nothing compared to the way he felt those first few days, when he could barely move without help, and had to rely on his companion utterly and completely. 

But, more then that, what he really remembered was the way the March Warden had looked at him. The anger and disappointment mingled with fear, concern, and compassion, all swirled together in the Eldar's wise, silver-gray eyes, was not an easy thing to forget…

The second time had been on the day he and Ránëwén were married. The look of absolute joy in the profound gaze was far more pleasant a sight, to be sure.

And now… the slightly resigned, yet compassionate and concerned look in his mentor's gaze was almost enough to bring the tears back. If Haldir accepted the 'fact' that Ranewen was dead…shouldn't he? Wouldn't that mean that his foster mother was simply trying to make him feel better with a cruelly false hope?

"_She would not want you to live in the past or in doubt, Elerossë,_" the March Warden reprimanded lightly, releasing his chin as he stepped to the side slightly.  "_Nor should you give up hope._"

"Dan…" Harry looked down at the ground once again, shaking his head. "_But what if she isn't alive?_"

"_Then you should honor her memory and the time you had her beside you,_" was the firm reply, and then he smiled slightly as Harry looked up at him. "_But the Lady is right…there is always that chance, however small, that she may have survived. Would you condemn her to the way you suffer now, by giving up on her?_"

"_Lau…_"  Harry shook his head, his mouth setting in a firm line.  "_Laume…_"  {No…No, of course not…}

"_Come,_" his uncle-in-law insisted, after a moment's silence. "_The Lord and Lady are waiting for us. As are _Rumil, Orophin_, and our supper…_" [AN: I'd forgotten that 'Rúmil' was one of Haldir's brother's names. Therefore, just so you can tell the difference between them, in dialogue, etc., I'm going to be calling Haldir's brother "Rumil", and not "Rúmil". OK? …Because I really don't feel like finding another name for him…]

**_End Chapter 13._**

**Translations:**

_Nierme Oior_ - Tears of the Heart

_Yondo nin _- my son

_Man?_ - What?

_Lau…_- No

_Melme_ - Love

_Uma_ - Yes

_Lende mi…_ - Come in…

_Mae govannen…_ - Welcome (Well-met) 

_Telain_ - A platform that the Galadhrim built in the higher branches of the silver-barked and gold-leafed Mallorn trees of Lothlórien.  ("Tree houses")

**Response to Reviews:**

**Raclswt** - Thank you.

LOL, no, I don't speak Elvish, I just like using it. If it were actually a language that people used in their day to day lives, then I probably wouldn't use it as much, because I highly doubt I do it any justice… 

**BloodRedSword** - Seventeen, why?

LOL, I'm glad you liked it ^_^

*Nods* Very true…some of that was supposed to be in this chapter, but I was having trouble with that, so I cut it short. Sorry. L

Maybe…

Thank you. ^_^

Hmm, I'm not sure I'd be any good at it, but I'll go take a look. My main problem is a lack of time. I barely have enough time to write my own fan fics and read some others… I'm not sure I could beta someone else's stories on a regular basis. But I'll consider it.

**Herald**-**Mage** **Brianna** - Thank you.

I'm not quite sure yet… though I'm definitely considering a few. ^_^

**Rhinemjr** - LOL, don't worry about it. ^_^  
That's good to hear.

No, it wasn't very nice…and it really wasn't to be, so… *shrugs*

Thank you. Sorry about the wait. -_-*

**Jeni** **Black** - LOL, yup.

LOL, I'd like that, and I'll certainly try, but my sister-in-law has two have sisters (and a lot of step-siblings, I'm not quite sure how this family works, but… *shrugs*) so I'll have some competition…. I don't know. I think the "cute" characteristic seems to go hand in hand with the "little" one…most of the time…when they're not crying…etc…

No, no member of the Fellowship _knows_ Elerosse personally. Gandalf has heard of him, but he never meant him in person. Legolas was always off hunting or something like that, when they _could_ have meant, and all of the others weren't born yet…  
LOL, no, I'm not quite sure… I think it's the same sort of scenario people relate to "Heaven":

- Perfect paradise 

- Everyone wants to get there…

- But no one really ever says what you might _do_ there… 

Except the Undying Lands sound a _little_ more…mortal…though that isn't really the right term. So it's not quite the same thing. 

**Silnar** - Hi ^_^

Thank you, I'll keep that in mind

We'll see…umm…lack of momentum? 

Sorry, you'll have to wait and see. :-P

**Deliverance** - LOL, don't worry about it. I appreciate the effort. ^_^

That's always nice to hear, and yes, it should be, shouldn't it?

LOL, yes, I thought so too. *Shrugs* I thought it fit… I mean, she always does that with professors, doesn't she? How long did it take her to get away from always referring to Snape as "Professor Snape" even though she hates him almost as much as Ron and Harry do? The summer before fifth year? …I think… 

Oh yes, that will certainly be interesting…though difficult…definitely difficult…It's one of the reasons this chapter is so short…*Sighs*  
Maybe…   
LOL, doesn't really matter…it looked weird, but…*shrugs*

You're welcome, and thank you. ^_^

**Heather-Hezzer-and-Honaluki** - *Shrugs* I, personally, prefer the movies…for the most part. But maybe that's just me…. Don't get me wrong, I love the story, but… I think it's because the books focus on the story more then the characters, and the movies seemed a bit more personalized to me…and we could see Elves. That's a definite plus. ^_^*  
Thank you, I'm glad you think so. 

Maybe…Maybe not…

**Privan** - *Sigh*

1. When did I even mention slash? As far as I know it simply hasn't come up. It may, and there may be a slash relationship later on in the story, but as far as I know that's yet to be decided, and hasn't been mentioned _at all_.

2. I personally _like_ the Elvish, and I realize that I've gone overboard with it a few times, but I have cut back, and, in my humble opinion, which in the end is the only opinion that matters, it adds flavor and authenticity to the story. 

3. Why? Generally, crossovers have to lean towards one or the other, and I think I've kept it fairly balanced, but, as it says in the summary, Harry's going to have to choose one of the worlds, so do I.

4. Harry's character is hard to judge. He's lived a _long_ time, yes. But on Middle Earth, has he lived a long time when compared to those he knew well? No. Compared to most of them he'll still be a child for a long time. Like, in the flash back here? I may be wrong, but I believe Haldir was alive in the First Age. Harry _came_ to Middle Earth in the _Third_ Age, so of course, even after a few centuries he'd still seem like a child to Haldir.   
5. But I do hope you are enjoying the fic still, and I apologize if you feel I over reacted, which I very well may have.

**Szelij** - Thank you…

*Blink**Blink*…

LOL… *Falls out of computer chair*

*Picks herself up off the floor a few minutes later, stifling giggles*

Thank you, that was a _very_ amusing image…Which may or may not be usable. We'll see. ^_^

**Darak** - OK… Thank you…

Hmm, well, that's a lot easier to answer then why she didn't push him out of the way, which has an answer as well, but that'll come out in the course of the story, so please don't bother asking.

You have to remember that while Ránëwén had a lot of training and whatnot, and is a pretty good duelist, she'd still be far more accustom to the way she lived on Middle Earth, and therefore, it's very possible that the idea simply didn't occur to her when she half-unconsciously reacted to the site of her soul-mate be in mortal peril. 

Umm… He was struggling, and Harry only saw him doing that, so yes, he probably fell over, but he was determined to get Harry…which can supposedly do a lot, especially for a wizard.  
Well, Harry doesn't know either, so that's good.

Hmm, well, a lot of the things Voldemort did were things that he also did, or Dumbledore did when they dueled in OotP, so, considering it HP cannon, I thought it was fair game for him… And, as to the shade part, I have to disagree. Just because he couldn't physically practice doesn't mean he couldn't accumulate knowledge, with the intention of practicing once his body was restored, or he was in control of someone else's body. 

He wasn't misbehaving, and just because he's over a thousand years old doesn't make him all knowing. He knows and has seen a lot, yes, but he still very young as far as Elves go. (I'm not sure if Arwen or Legolas was the youngest Elf on Middle Earth, but I think it was one of them…)

**Lunawolf** - Maybe… 

Yes, it should be. ^_^

We'll see… ^_~

**HG/HrRFan4ever** - LOL, yes, that seems to be the general consensus, which is good. ^_^

For the most part yes…though that doesn't mean they're done reacting… 

Thank you.

It's my brother and my sister-in-law. And thank you. Congrats to you too, and yes, it is wonderful. ^_^

**Kevin-McKay** - LOL, personally? I agree. ^_^

But I am fond of cliffhangers…Sorry. :-P

**Estel** **Potter** - Thank you :-D

*Nods* Yes, bad times for Harry…

LOL, I actually did that when I was writing at one point. I added her into a scene (which was supposed to be in this chapter, but won't come up until the next one), and then remembered that she's not supposed to be there, so I had to delete most of the scene. *Shakes head* I don't know…maybe I get too attached my OC's, but leaving her dead won't be easy… 

LOL, he does, doesn't he? Don't worry, not that far off. ^_~

*Blink**Blink* LOL, *clap**clap* That's almost the exact mindset I'm getting Harry ready for… ^_^

That's always nice to hear… I'm trying to keep her in character. 

LOL, yes, he will be… Not sure about Haldir yet…We'll see. ^_^

*Sigh* I should, shouldn't I? …Of course I have to make up my mind first, but… *shakes head* That should be all sorted out in the next chapter. 

Umm…Every one that I know of, pretty much. All of them were attacking, so all of them ended up in Mordor…Well, almost all of them.

Thank you. ^_^

**The** **angelic** **vampire** - *Cough**Cough* Sorry can't answer the second part of that yet… :-P

**Calen** - Thanks, *nods* yup.

LOL, sorry, that's for the next chapter… It _was_ supposed to be in this chapter, but it's being difficult…So it's going into the next chapter. Leaving you guys with a short chapter. *pouts* Sorry…

LOL, very amusing image, I may give it a try. Thanks for the idea. ^_^

**Musicstarlover** - Yes, it's always nice when exams are over. And yes, I'm an aunt. And, therefore, I would appear to be rather lucky, wouldn't I? ^_^

*Blinks* Umm…Wouldn't a bar of chocolate have a chocolate flavor?

**Lyla** **Snape** - ^_^

LOL, yes, stabbing Umbridge is a very appealing concept, isn't it? 

She's working on it… 

**Vsd2oc** - LOL, thank you very much. ^_^

1. I try…Over-thinking can make writing difficult, but the final product is better, so I think the efforts certainly worth it.   
2. LOL, enjoy. ^_^

**Sierra**-**Falls** - *makes a face* Um…the two people that were with them when they were pulled back? … It seemed like a good idea at the time. *Shrugs* 

LOL, very true…More of that later. ^_^

**Luke**-**6622427** - *Sigh* Yes, the last chapter, and this one, were terribly short, I know. And I apologize. They're being difficult, so…

**Blip**-**dragon** - Hmm… I'd think so. Elves aren't _purely magical_, that would be what the Valar, and maybe the Maiar are. Elves are immortal, but they're _not_ invulnerable… But, as to the depleting life energies thing… That's a very real possibility. ^_~

**Dadaiiro** - 

1. LOL, thank you, I'm glad. ^_^

Yes, they were, weren't they?

Yes, I like Galadriel too. ^_^

2. LOL, maybe… ^_~ 

*Blink**Blink* Yes, that would be an interesting scene, wouldn't it? …LOL, and that gives me quite a few ideas, but I'm afraid they'll probably have to wait until later…

**Jaclyn (Mebririth/Enya) the butterfly Queen** - Hi! ^_^

LOL, I try. 

*Shrugs* That's good to hear…It shows how much people actually like Violet. I haven't anyone say they're glad she'd gone, so bringing her back definitely isn't out of the picture. ^_~  
Thank you, I'm glad you think so. 

**Nymphadora14** - Thank you ^_^

*Sighs* No, Elves aren't _purely_ magical beings. They're immortal, but not invulnerable. I think the Valar are supposed to be purely magical beings (they're gods), but I'm not quite sure yet…  
 

**Dadaiiro** -   
(1) 

No, death definitely wasn't way off. ^_^

*Shakes head* I think most of that's hinted at in the last few chapters, but the rest is still behind closed doors, for now. 

Yes, he did. I mean, he pretty much admitted that he _should_ have given Harry a good grade!  
Most of those questions have been answered, right?

LOL, yes, that was kind of a spur of the moment decision. Originally, they were supposed to be betrothed/engaged, but not married yet. But then I decided that Harry'd have to realize it wasn't really fair for Ránëwén to have to get married surrounded by his friends, and not hers, so he didn't take the chance. 

*Cough**Cough* That should be coming up pretty soon. 

(2)

Maybe…Maybe not…

*Nods* Very true…but I really don't think Harry could ever right the death of his soul mate off as an "accident".

Umm…sorry…not telling… :-P

LOL, I'm not quite sure about that yet, still thinking…

Yes, Remus will transform.  
Thank you ^_^ 

**Saki** - LOL, thank you. ^_^

It is nice, isn't it.

…No…not really…Poor Harry… *shakes head*

**Dumbledore** - LOL, thanks. ^_^

Hmm, I'll consider it. But I've always found that background lends depth, so…We'll see… Thank you for the advice, though. 

**Thanks to: **

**Digi** **Bonds**

**Wytil**

**Insaneechildfanfic**

**Canal **

**CastusAlbusCor**

**Tomboy101**

**Misscarlet1225**

**Burningicecream**

**The Lady Reaper of the Shadows - ^_^**

**Cataclysmic**

**Athenakitty**

**Silver** **Sparklze**

**Aion**

**Prd2bAmerican18**

**Ahndi** - ^_^

**Insain** **fan** - LOL…cool ^_^

**Jlmac** - :-D

**Star** **mage** - Probably, yes…We'll see. 

**Possesed** **Angel**

**"Fan of story" (email)**

**Angua** - You're very welcome. ^_^

**Lilytiger20** - ^_^

**AN****: Wow, 52 Reviews! Not bad guys! ^_^**

**Sorry about the wait. As I told quite a few of you, I was trying to give you guys a longer chapter… But one of the later scenes just isn't cooperating, so I'll have to rethink it. **

**What'd you think? Worth continuing?**

**I'm going college visiting tomorrow, but I'll try to update again soon.**

**Bye! ^_^**

**~ Jess S**


	15. Chapter 14: Mestas

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling; Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

**There and Back Again**

_Chapter 14: Mestas_

By Jess S

"_Are you ready, Elerossë?_"

"_Uma,_" Harry nodded, meeting his foster-mother's eyes in a confirmation that was only slightly diffident.  They were down in the grove now, and his nervousness only grew as he watched the Lady of the Golden Wood pour the obligatory water onto her mirror.  It was through this element that _Nenya's_ power gave its bearer, and those its bearer chose to include, the power of Sight.

He couldn't help but be nervous now.  The last time he'd looked into the Mirror, which was also the only time prior to now, had been when they were searching for a way to send him back to Earth.  They hadn't known then about the terribly powerful barrier that kept all the worlds separate, and that barrier didn't take too kindly to being assaulted.  Upon realizing that he was in pain, Galadriel had, of course, pushed him away from the Mirror, and then fought to regain control of it, which had been rather difficult, as the element that empowered had been evaporating at a stunningly rapid rate, due to the high temperature of the barrier's attack.

The encounter had forced both of them into a semi-comatose state for a number of weeks, and it was only Lord Elrond's remarkable healing skills, combined with the power of his own Ring that brought them back after so short a time.

Since then, he'd never wanted to look into the pristine depths of the Sight again, but they had little choice at the moment.  Galadriel had been trying for several days to find a focus in what she'd Seen, in order to un-fog the images into sensible apparitions.  But nothing seemed to penetrate the heavy haze of confusion that now surrounded them.

That was why he was looking now.  They had to know what was happening, and the only focus they had at hand was his link to Voldemort, which he had yet to test, for the chance had simply never arisen when he was on Earth…

"_Uma…I'm ready…_" the wizard nodded, stepping closer to the Mirror.  He glanced at the Lady of Light again, his stunning green eyes still tentative and to some extent fearful as they looked for support.

She was more than willing to give that encouragement, even if it was rather grim, but the kind smile she offered with her firm nod served to ease some of his qualms, though certainly not all…

Finally, he took one calming breath, before lowering his emerald gaze to the shimmering, crystalline pool that offered his reflection on a dark, unforgiving milieu.  But that wasn't even there for an entire moment, as a ripple of raw power broke it, only to settle for replacing it with a hazy fog, which slowly cleared.

_Voldemort sat upon a dark throne, apparently listening to some of his supporters, all of whom were robed and masked in the Death Eater fashion._

Harry' quick gaze quickly noted that the Death Eater ranks were significantly greater then they'd been during the attack and Hogsmeade, and it didn't take long to figure out where the new recruits had come from.  Many of them were _younger_ then the other Death Eaters.  This was made clear both by their size, and the fact that they didn't seem to know what they were doing at all, so were simply following the orders of their elders…

_Then the image changed again, to a group of nine sitting around a campfire; two men, one wizard, one elf, one dwarf, and four hobbits…_

A strange set up indeed, the wizard's mind was quick to note.  The first five weren't all that surprising.  All of them were warriors who could certainly own their own in a fight.  But hobbits were generally farmers, and, if he recalled correctly, firm pacifists who frowned on becoming involved in the affairs of the other races at all…

But the reason for at least one of them quickly became clear.

_He was around the same age as the others, with the same short stature, hairy feet and curly hair…  But his eyes were filled with far more pain, and the wisdom one often sees with such pain.  He carried an object of great, **evil** power, which could only mean that he was the Bearer of the Ring of Power…_

And then the likeness rippled, to change yet another time…

_The sight of a great, all-seeing eye replaced it.  It had no lid, and was wreathed in the very same flames it appeared to be comprised of, flames that only highlighted the jealousy and malice it was a slave to. _

Once again, the waters, which were now releasing alarming amounts of steam, rippled…

_The Eye was joined by the presence of a great skull, which seemed to be comprised of dark magic and cold, green stars.  A snake slithered out of its mouth to complete the picture Harry knew as that Dark Mark, but he was surprised to see that it wasn't done forming yet._

_Whereas before the skull had always been just that…the image of a skull, now it changed.  Great, flames encircled it invidiously, while the same type of flames bloomed in the eye sockets, soon to be replaced by two flaming eyes very much like the One Eye he'd Seen only moments before. _

_This mark took its place in the sky, rising from the top of a Dark Tower -- Barad-dûr, if he recalled correctly -- turning its gaze to the West…towards Imladris.  And then the Death Eaters were leaving the Tower, following the path the Mark watched for them…_

_The new image was certainly far more frightening then the Dark Mark that Harry remembered.  That mark had been cold, cruel, yet boastful.  It had done what it intended for the most part, and had no mind of its own. _

_Yet this… _

_Sauron's spirit was achieving form…_

Harry quickly stumbled back from the Mirror as another spout of steam erupted from the boiling surface.  His foster mother didn't seem any less shocked then him.  Her eyes were as wide as his, and breathing no less difficult.

"_Nai Vala…_" she breathed, shaking her head as she made her way over to him, to offer him a helping hand.

Harry sighed, "_I'd say we have a problem…_"

The Lady of Light nodded, her lips settling into a grim line.  "_Indeed we do…_" she was still and quiet for more than a few moments, before she shook her head. _"  I must send word to Elrond…He may be able to help us…But you--_"

"_Must have words with my friends,_" Harry nodded, "_I know…_"

Galadriel sighed softly, shaking her head as she leaned down slightly to press a gentle kiss on his brow.  "_They will understand…_"  As she pulled back she shook her head again, "_Although you must make sure they know that they don't **have** to fight.  Though we would welcome their aid, certainly…_"

"_Uma…_"  Harry nodded once again.  "_With the addition of Wizarding warfare, the situation has definitely become much more problematical…_"

"_Combined with Sauron's armies and the armies Saruman has been breeding…  This army will be a formidable foe…_"

The wizard sighed, shaking his head.  "_If we don't do something they'll crush any fighting force they come across….  Lothlórien, Imladris, and Eryn Lasgalen are better protected then most.  Lothlórien most of all, as I practiced with so many warding spells here, it's practically impenetrable…And I did take care to ensure Imladris and Thranduil's realm had similar protection…_"

"_The White City is protected by some Istari and Elven magicks, but not anything that might stand against these…Qualme Rauko._"

Harry nodded again, easily accepting the term she'd half-jokingly given to the Death Eaters a long time before their coming to this world.  "_We need an army…  An armed force, to march against the collective forces of Darkness…_"

"_The soldiers of the Galadhrim will gladly follow you, I am sure,_" Galadriel told him, her voice somewhat distant as she continued to struggle with some of the images, while undoubtedly trying to find her son-in-law's mental signature at the same time.  She was a Lady of great patience when that virtue was called for, but she did not like wasting time at all.  "_And Haldir will undoubtedly find no reservations in guiding you once more…_"

This time, Harry Potter hesitated only a few spare moments before nodding in acceptance of the influence that being known as Elerossë Tinehtelë, fostered lord of the Galadhrim, granted him.

They'd crossed many hills, streams, rivers, forests and lesser mountains to come to where they where now they were now.  The last bridge to aid them was a distant memory.  Though what Gandalf the Grey had told them then was not, as it had been repeated a number of times since then; "We must hold this course, west of the Misty Mountains, for forty days.  If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us.  From there, our road turns east, to Mordor…"

Frodo shook his head, smiling slightly as Sam handed him a dish of the sausages he'd spent the last while cooking.  Boromir was instructing Merry and Pippin in the 'art of swordplay', as he called it.  He'd offered to teach the other two hobbits as well, but neither had been overly interested.  Frodo himself was content to simply watch them, as it appeared Sam was too, shaking his head slightly as Boromir counted off the strikes while he parried with Merry.

"Two, one, five.  Good!  Very good."  Boromir nodded, smiling slightly as he turned to Pippin, picking up the same pace and maneuvers.

"Move your feet," Aragorn advised them from the sidelines, where he was smoking his pipe.

"You look good, Pippin," Merry nodded with a smile as the other finished the same move he'd been drilled in a moment before.

Pippin returned both the nod and the smile as he replied.  "Thanks."

"Faster!"  Boromir ordered, sounding amused.

Gimli looked away from the activity with an amused shake of his head, glancing up at Gandalf as he sighed.  "If anyone were to ask my opinion, which I _note_ they're not, I'd say we were taking the _long_ way 'round!  Gandalf," he waited until the wizard met his gaze before continuing.  "We could pass through the Mines of Maria.  My cousin, Balin, would give us a **_royal_** welcome!"

"No, Gimli," Gandalf shook his head, a worried expression crossing his face.  "I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice…"

Legolas, who'd been keeping an eye on their surroundings, as was his habit, frowned as he crossed the camp quickly, leaping up onto one of the larger boulders with the grace that was inherent to his kind.  Gandalf turned as well, frowning as he watched the horizon the Elf was eyeing, trying to make out something in the distance.  Neither noticed, or more likely; both chose to ignore the sudden yelp of one of their companions.

"_Sorry!_"  Boromir offered hurriedly, a worried expression crossing his face as he bent down to try and have a look at the hand Pippin was clutching.

He didn't get a chance, however, as the hobbit chose that chance to kick the taller being in the shin, sending him back with a grunt, that was quickly followed by a surprised shout as both Merry and Pippin ran into him, knocking him over.

"Hold him.  Hold him down, Merry!"  Pippin yelled, as he struggled to help while Boromir simply laughed, smiling widely as he sat up, ruffling their hair.  It was then that he noticed the attention some of the party was paying to the distant horizon, and his uneasy face made the Halflings release him, as they turned to look at what Sam was referring to.

"What is that?"

"Nothing."  Gimli replied, albeit uncertainly.  "It's just a wisp of cloud."

"It's moving fast," Boromir shook his head as he rose, "and against the wind…"

Legolas's eyes widened as he finally recognized the approaching oddity.  "Crebain from Dunland!"

"_Hide!_"  Aragorn shouts as he turned, running in Frodo's direction.

"_Hurry!_"  Boromir agreed with a shout, hastening Merry and Pippin along, albeit needlessly.  He seemed to look upon all four of the Hobbit's as children, most of the time.  This wasn't too hard to understand, most Men didn't know of the existence of the Hobbits -- for they rarely left their lands -- and if they happened to come across them, they often mistook them for children; because of their height.  Still, it was something that could easily become annoying with the passage of time…

But that wasn't something that anyone really noticed as they hurried to hide from the coming threat.  Aragorn certainly didn't as he made his way towards Frodo and Sam, who were scrambling down from the rocks.  "Take cover!"

Everyone was hurrying to do so, grabbing they're belongings and putting out the fire before hurrying into the bushes and rock crevices they'd made they're camp amongst.  They managed to make it into hiding just as the huge flock of bat-like-birds reached the area, swarming overhead.

Something gave them reason to turn back there; perhaps they didn't wish to stray far from the area they'd been sent to guard.  But whatever the case, the swarming mass that so disturbingly seemed to be an embodiment of darkness did eventually leave, heading back in the direction it'd come from.

Only then did the Fellowship move out from their hiding places, turning to Gandalf for guidance even as he shook his head with a sigh.  "_Spies_ of Saruman…  The passage south is being watched…"  He looked up at a cold, inhospitable mountain that hovered in the distance.  "We must take the Pass of Caradhas…"

Harry sighed as he finished accepting the sorrowful farewells his foster-kin offered so freely, many of them barely restraining tears.  It wasn't hard to see why.  He'd only just returned to them, and had not yet had ample time to mourn the supposed passing of his soul mate…  Many of them clearly believed her gone for good, but he couldn't afford to do that…He could never afford to do that…

"_Ready to go?_"

The wizard turned and nodded to the Rúmil's inquiry, returning the soft smile both twins were offering him.  It was to be just the three of them now.  The Fellowship needed to be found, and amply protected, that task fell to them.  The rest of the Galadhrim, or at least those who had not all ready left for the West, were preparing for the coming battle.  Some of said preparation was, of course, helping the other witches and wizards from his home world become acquainted with this one, while they in turn offered advice on Wizarding defense and war tactics, most of which wasn't all that hard to follow.

He would have liked to stay, and see what his 'elders' had to offer Middle Earth, what he'd picked up from Hermione's _book_ had been very interesting, but he knew there was plenty more to learn in all fields.  He'd already made the mistake, on a number of occasions, of thinking of the other witches and wizards as '_children_', well some of them were, but they were very responsible children.  And, though even Dumbledore _and_ Harry himself were terribly young, in comparison to the Elves, various experiences led them to accept this world, and live.

They had reacted rather well to the news that they were trapped in this world, which Voldemort was planning on taking over.  Harry hadn't been surprised when most volunteered immediately to help, even before he'd asked.  Most of them were Gryffindors, and those that weren't were still members of the DA, or the Order of the Phoenix.  He did have the sneaking suspicion that many of them were relieved to hear that Voldemort was attacking this world (instead of Earth), but that was neither here nor there…

**_ Flashback _**

_"Why did you ever tell us that your foster parents were **royalty**?"  Hermione broke the silence rather suddenly, her inquiry earning her odd gazes from everyone with the exception of the one her gaze was focused on. _

_Harry shrugged, closing his eyes to the world as he leaned back into a very relaxed position.  "You never asked?"_

_"Why on earth would we ever think to ask?!" _

_"Uh…excuse me?"  Ron shifted uncomfortably as Hermione's glare snapped over to him, making Harry's one-eyed look appear all the more relaxed.  "What are you talking about?"_

_"Apparently," Harry offered with another small shrug, "Hermione finds the identities of my foster parents rather unsettling."_

_"They're royalty!  And you never said anything about being a prince!"_

_"Royalty?"  Fred and George cut in at the same time, "A prince?  Him?"_

_"**Yes!**"  Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes at their antics.  "Don't you remember?  **He**--" here she pointed at Harry, who was watching her in an obviously amused fashion, -- "said that his foster parents were called Galadriel and Celeborn!  If you care to remember the names of our hosts, they're the same people!"_

_"Couldn't they just have the same name?"  Neville asked uncertainly, flinching back only slightly when the bushy haired brunette glared at him. _

_"If he'd only told us the name of one of them, perhaps, but **both** of them?"_

_"Alright all ready, Granger, you've made your point."  Draco drawled out, smirking when she glared at him.  "Potter's a prince in this world.  So what.  Big deal.  Move on."_

_"But--"_

_"What, Hermione?"  Harry stopped her, his voice still calm, but a bit tenser than before.  "Why does it matter, really?  It's not like I lied.  Far too much happened to me here for me to tell you everything, so I left a lot out.  As Draco so aptly put it, so what?  Why does it bother you so much?"_

_"I…Well, I…  I don't know…"  Hermione trailed off for a minute, then shook her head, "You should've told us, that's all."_

_"Alright," the wizard nodded, "Perhaps I should have.  I apologize….  Now, perhaps we can get back to the purpose for this meeting?"  He waited until everybody seemed to be waiting attentively, their curiosity fairly plain to see.  "At present, there is no way to return to Earth." _

_He probably should have picked a more gentle way of stating that fact; he was after all acquainted with how painful and worrisome it was to hear.  It was exactly the same thing Galadriel had told him many centuries before. _

_To say that it panicked the other witches and wizards was a severe understatement.  Many of them were put beside themselves almost instantly, as was shown by the shouts and bangs of chairs that followed his proclamation of that small fact._

_Fortunately, though, it did not panic everybody.  Some of the Order of the Phoenix and even some DA members followed their respective leader's examples and remained composed, thus allowing Dumbledore to quiet the others with a question bound for Harry._

_"Is there any particular reason for this?" _

_Harry nodded, "At present, Middle Earth is being dragged deeper and deeper into a world war…  The Lord of Mordor, Sauron, had allied himself with Saruman, the head Istari of Isengard, and together they are preparing vast armies to destroy the kingdoms that surround them….  It should have been a fairly balanced fight, the forces of Light in this world have held the Darkness as bay for numerous ages, but the balance has been broken…"_

_"By us?"  Hermione asked, frowning.  "That wouldn't make any sense…  It wouldn't be a problem, because we're of the Light, so we would tip the balance in favor of the Light automatically, wouldn't we?"_

_"**We** were not the only ones brought here."_

_"Then Voldemort is here as well?"  Dumbledore summarized his voice a bit heavier than usual, and the twinkle that seemed so innate a part of his gaze was absent._

_Again, the foster-son of the Rulers of the Galadhrim sighed, before nodding his head.  "From what the Lady can decipher, most of the witches and wizards in Hogsmeade with definite standings in the war were brought here.  Those of the Light are all those around you, brought to Lothlórien.  Those of the Dark landed in Mordor, the hellish kingdom of Sauron.  Voldemort has chosen to ally himself and the Death Eaters with him, those who were attacking Hogsmeade, to Sauron, in his quest for dominion over all life on this earth."  Harry paused for a moment, before continuing in a decidedly wearied tone.  "As I said, before our arrival the sides were more or less even.  But now…  Sauron already has armies comprising of millions of Orcs, trolls, goblins, dark men and other monsters.  Added to that, he has ensnared the Istari Wizard, Saruman, in his game for power, and another army is being built their, undoubtedly to be unleashed some time in the near future….  Saruman was the only being of true power and cunning that Sauron commanded a few days back… with our arrival, though, that changed.  He now has Voldemort and the Death Eaters, wizards with a taste for dark power and a capacity for warfare, at his call."_

_"So the balance favors the Dark Forces."  Everyone turned to see Harry's foster parents standing in the entryway, watching them as Galadriel continued.  "And we must ask if you are disposed to change that."_

**_ End of Flashback _******

The Light wizards had barely hesitated.  The more cautious members of the group had raised several points of concern, but at the heart of the matter was the fact that if they didn't help, the Forces of Darkness would win, and they would have no where to go, and certainly no way to get back to Earth.  Besides, most of them were Gryffindors, so that was that.

Harry shook his head, a soft smile gracing his face, which even now bore the signs of disillusionment and sorrow.  With a sigh he gracefully mounted the regal white stallion his foster-father had presented to him a short time before.  It was truly a fine steed, a descendent of Wile his second horse, which had been sired by his first, Wilin, the horse Celeborn had given to him many centuries before.  He remembered both mounts acutely, and missed them dearly, but it had been their time.  But this mount, Hwesta, would surely be quite capable of carrying him through many perils, just as both his ancestors had.  Hwesta was much more like Wilin in personality, his free-spirited, bold and exuberant incredible when compared to Wile's placid, easy-going nature.  Harry knew that that was probably good though.  Wile had never ridden into battle, and indeed had been more like his dam than his sire, and as Ránëwén had felt no trouble pointing out, certainly not a warhorse…

The wizard shook his head again to clear it, before sharply focusing his attention on the other two mounted beings; the twins.  All three of them were dressed alike, in the manner of Galadrim guards, cool grays blended with gentle greens beneath a gray cloak that was made for camouflage.

"Shall we head west, to the Caradhras Pass?"  He offered, his voice quiet, betraying none of the pains that continued to plague him.

"Winter is approaching," Camthalion pointed out.  "It may be too rough."

Harry shrugged, "Then we can Apparate, or rather, I can Apparate the three of us."

The twins nodded in silent agreement before nudging their mounts into motion alongside his.

The Guardians of the Golden Wood watched the trio as it departed at a justly fast pace, headed to the West, where Imladris lay.

"But is it really our place, Albus?"  Professor Sprout inquired worriedly as she and the other witches and wizards from Earth poured over the maps that the Lord and Lady of this fairytale-like realm had offered them.

"What choice do we have, Pomona?"  Minerva McGonagall broke in with a sigh, shaking her head.  "If we don't help, we don't have any chance of going home.  In which case we'd be stuck with this world anyhow…  And I'd rather not live in a world ruled by Darkness, thank you very much."

"I agree," Professor Dumbledore offered with a nod, sighing afterward.  "What's more, I'd like to see more of this world.  Harry is quite attached to it, and I believe seeing it in peaceful times might show us why."

"And it's not as though we're getting any older," the Head of Slytherin offered darkly, while he scowled at some of the Elvish writing on the map he was trying to read.

"There is that," Dumbledore agreed, an amused twinkle in his eye as he surveyed those around him.

Almost the entire Order had been brought here, just as the Lady Galadriel said most of Voldemort's Death Eaters had been.

So they were meant to balance each other out.  It only made sense.

But what of the students?  Yes, the fact that they'd rallied around Harry to form a 'Defense Group' named in the headmaster's own honor, set them apart from the students somewhat, but did that mean that other students were here as well?  Students that were loyal to Voldemort, perhaps?

Common sense would dictate so.

The children were currently abed; exhausted by the rigorous training Sirius, Remus, and Alastor had put them through that afternoon.  That left the teachers and the other adults room to work.  Only a dozen members of the order had been pulled into this world.  The order was much larger than that, but they were the only ones close enough to Harry, it seemed, to be pulled along.  Fortunately though, they were among the hardest working people the British Wizarding World knew, extremely dedicated and loyal.

Minerva McGonagall; Head of Gryffindor House and his ever faithful second-in-command, both as the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts, and in the day to day running of the Order.  A few locks of her graying black hair had managed to slip out of the tight bun she had on the back of her head, but she'd made no effort to fix it, she was far too busy concentrating to bother, and she probably wouldn't even bother with fixing her glassed each time they slipped, if she didn't need them to see the map that held her undivided attention.

Severus Snape; a white sheep from a black family, much like Sirius.  Dumbledore knew without a doubt that Severus's position as spy was lost, for Voldemort would surely be suspicious of the fact that only one of his Death Eaters had landed among the Light Forces.  Nonetheless, the Potions Master was a powerful ally, and a good friend, as much as Sirius would scoff at the idea.  He was a loyal as any Hufflepuff, and just a brave as any of the Gryffindors, if a bit more reserved.  Combined with the cunning that had made him a part of the House he was now Head to, and the last of the Snapes was not someone to be taken likely, and someone the Hogwarts Headmaster was immensely pleased to have with him.

The Weasleys were as constructive and devoted as ever, each giving the task they'd accepted their very best.  Arthur was looking over another map with Kingsley and Nymphadora, while Molly conferred with the Elf, Orophin; another one of Harry's in-laws, about supplies for food, healing, and whatnot, along with the means to transport them.  Charlie was looking over some of the diagrams the Galadhrim had provided, scrutinizing the various monsters they might find themselves coming against for weaknesses.  Judging by the list he was accumulating, he was having quite a bit of success; a heartening thought, to be sure.  Bill was struggling with some of the Elven documents, with the help of the Elf-maid Tári, carefully configuring them in the Arithmatic equations that so few understood.

Sirius and Remus didn't appear to be paying the map they were supposed to be looking over much mind.  That wasn't really surprising.  They more then any body had reason to be pained by the recent events.  Harry was most definitely no longer a child…they'd missed his _life_.  A stinging thought for the two men who'd sworn to always look out for the son of their best friend.

Elphias and Dedalus were apparently having at least some success with the ingenious tome Ms. Granger had constructed at the end of her forth year.  Both had lists that were several feet long and were writing at a speed that made his own wrist ache slightly in sympathy.

Mundungus had fallen asleep, and surprisingly Alastor hadn't seen fit to yell at him yet for it, instead choosing to continue working with the map they were supposed to be working on together on his own.  Though maybe that really wasn't really all too surprising, as the pair had had quite a bit of difficulty working together when they'd been awake anyhow.  Dumbledore sighed at that memory of only a few short hours before.  He really had hoped they'd be able to overcome their difference for the sake of their mutual cause.

Strurgis had moved away from the map he'd been studying for the last few hours, obviously to stretch his long legs.  He was now conferring with another elf on the landing just outside the doorway.  After a few moments, he came back in, and was making his way back to his map when Dumbledore decided to interrupt his comrades.

"Perhaps we should compare notes now, my friends?"  He offered in a kindly tone, setting the parchment he'd been studying down.  It was scroll that Harry had been kind enough to provide him with before his departure.  And it contained many of the ideas the boy had cooked up for combat.  Dumbledore shook his head bemusedly as he caught himself.  Harry was no longer a 'boy'…  He'd do well to remember that.  With a sigh, he looked around the room's occupants, all of whom were watching him intently.  "Any volunteers to open?" 

"Elerossë," Rúmil waited until he had Harry's attention, before nodding to an area off to the side of the trail they were riding down.  "Those tracks…"

"Look a great deal like the kind a group such as the one we seek might leave," Harry nodded in agreement, while gently stroking his mount's neck, to sooth its obvious impatience.  "Then they are already farther along then we'd thought."

"Mithrandir is guiding them," Camthalion offered with a shrug.  "And the Heir of Isilduir has lived for a long while as a Ranger."

"This would offer them a considerable advantage, in normal circumstances."  Harry nodded again, before dismounting to kneel down to take a closer look at the trail, while his companions watched.  After a few moments he nodded again, "Yes…These tracks fit the description of the Fellowship _heri'amilnin_ offered of the Fellowship."  He thought for a few moments before nodding once more.  "If they follow this same course for another few weeks, they should reach the Gap of Rohan before true winter hits…  They'd probably camp somewhere that offered them a clear few of the Mountains."

"Any ideas?"

"A few," the wizard sighed, before mounting again.  He then held out his hands, easily accepting their mounts reins before reaching inside himself and Apparating all three of them once again, this time back in the direction they'd come from, to one of the areas they'd skipped.

Upon reaching the eastern side of the Pass of Caradhras, it'd been easy to see that the mountain would not welcome them, so he'd Apparated them from there to the other side, and from there to one of the places he'd frequented while en-route to Imladris in the past.

Now they arrived with a pop, looking out at an area that offered the western view of Caradhras.

"Well, it seems you and Gandalf have similar tastes, _mellon nin_," Rúmil offered with a gentle grin, a spark of humor in his eyes as he nodded to the remains of a campfire a short distance away.  "That can't be more than two days old."

His twin nodded, "I agree."

But Harry didn't bother replying right away, his sharp emerald eyes scanning their surrounding, while a frown quickly marked his misleadingly youthful features.

"_Man ta?_"  Camthalion inquired as he noted the other's unease.

Harry jerked his head towards the side of the 'mountain' that offered a view of Caradhras.  "The trail goes in the direction of the _Red Horn_, not the _Southern Pass_."

The twins were frowning now too, as they followed his exampled in dismounting, not bother to tie their mounts to anything, for they weren't staying long, and despite Hwesta's restless spirit, he was just as well trained as any Elven stallion, as were the twin's mounts.

"Something must have happened," Rúmil recapitulated unnecessarily, looking around, his azure eyes probing.

"There," Camthalion pointed to one of the boulders, "Is that _wilin limba?_"

"And there to the south," Harry nodded in the direction of the southern pass, his gaze focused on the distant break in the mountains.  "Crebain."

"They couldn't risk the passage, for it would leave them pray to Saruman's spies, and his spells."  Camthalion nodded, then his frown deepened, "So they…"

"Are going to climb Caradhras," Harry finished when his companion stopped, his tone firm.

"So late in the autumn?  With the strongest Istari in the land against them?"  Rúmil demanded incredulously, shaking his head.  "They're _fools!_"

"Nevertheless, that is there path, and therefore ours," Harry said, while remounting.  He waited until the twins had also done so, before Apparating them to the foot of the Red Horn.

"Are you enjoying your stay in Caras Galadhon?"  Lady Galadriel inquired politely, breaking the tense silence that hung around the majestic dining room, with a voice that belied no insecurities.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded respectfully, offering a pleasant smile as he looked up from the goblet that his dessert had been served in, which he'd been examining with outright fascination for some time.  All of the goblets had different scenes depicted artistically on their pristine surfaces; scenes that he presumed were from either Elven history, or legend…or perhaps both?  "Quite enjoyable, thank you."

"And you have all the tools you need?"  Lord Celeborn queried pleasantly, his wise gaze searching.  "You do not need anything more?"

"Not at the moment, thank you."  The Hogwarts Headmaster replied, bowing his head slightly, before rising with a pleasant smile.  "I think it might be best if we tucked in at the moment…and perhaps made more plans in the morning?"  He offered, well aware of how utterly exhausted his comrades were after hours of research both the night before and the whole of the day that led up to this excellent and enlightening meal.

Apparently, the Lord and Lady had also noticed their guests' fatigue, for they wasted no time in offering their leave, before departing themselves.

Supper had indeed been an informative affair.  Most of the talk had focused around plans for the upcoming conflicts, along with comparisons of histories, those of Sauron and Voldemort.  Though they had focused on more pleasant matters later on, such as Harry's upbringing in this lovely city.

He found it more then a little reassuring to hear the Lord and Lady speak of Harry so affectionately.  At least the young orphan had eventually managed to find a true home.  The Weasley had treated Harry as an adoptive member of their family, true, but not to the extent the Elven rulers had.  To the Weasleys, Harry was certainly a beloved friend, but that was the most he could really be, in that tightly knit family.  Something more had been achieved with Galadriel and through her Celeborn.  He didn't know what it was that gave them the feel of true kin, but he was thankful for it.

The others had reacted in various ways.  Severus hadn't shown much emotion at all, while Minerva had clearly been just as pleased as he.  Sirius and Remus were put to ease slightly by the memoirs, though they clearly wished they'd been a part of them.  Molly and Arthur's reactions were much the same, to a somewhat lesser degree.

"Master Lupin?"

The wizards stopped on their way out the door, turning back as one at the Lady's call.

Galadriel herself offered a kind smile as she focused on Remus, "Might I have a few words with you?  It wouldn't take long."

Remus blinked, before nodding in compliance, watching with only slight trepidation as his fellow wizards departed.

There were few times in his life when Remus Lupin had felt quite as nervous as he did now.  This evening had been both wonderful and terrible, all rolled into one sitting.  The war talks had obviously been a success, which was undoubtedly why conversation had turned to the one other common ground they shared: Harry.

Though, come to think of it, Harry had lived here with Elves a lot longer then he'd lived on Earth.  The affectionate accounts the Lord and Lady offered were proof of that…  Could he really feel any tie to his own world, by comparison?

"You are troubled…"

Remus looked up with a start, suddenly realizing how withdrawn he'd been acting.  He bowed apologetically to his hosts before offering his regret.  "Forgive me, milord, milady, I meant no disrespect."

A soft, musical laughter made him look up hesitantly, to be met by the wondrous sight of the Lady of Light's radiant smile.  "It is hardly something to be repentant for, young _Arminas_.  You and young _Aikanáro_ have every right to disappointment at not seeing Elerossë reach adulthood."

The wizard nodded slowly, before blinking.  "Arminas?  Aikanáro?"

"They are the names Harry chose for you, during his time here."  Lord Celeborn told him, the gentle smile on his face matching his spouse's.  "It was very early in his stay, while he was still learning our language, so he may not remember doing so, but we remember.  Anyone that has earned his affection merits acquaintance."

"Elu Arminas Táralóm, the mentor, and Aikanáro Nénharma, the scarred protector; both loyal to their past and promises, with hidden forms that many fear…  Though yours only appears when Tilion brings the Telperion in close proximity to yourself."

It took the werewolf no more than a few short moments to realize what she meant, and the inference made him stiffen.  That was the other reason he'd been restless he suddenly realized, the full moon must be near in this world.  "Lady…" he stopped when his hostess raised a pale, graceful hand.

"There is a demon inside of you, we know.  But that does not mean you are evil, nor dangerous."  The gaze that was focused on him was the only feature that truly showed how old she was.  Set in a beautiful, eternally youthful face were two sapphire eyes that bore the weight of many centuries of experience, and the wisdom prolonged existence was bound to fashion.  "You control it, the malevolent spirit within.  You have controlled it all of your life, only loosing control when it was strengthened by that which its kinfolk pay high tribute to…  It is a very noble task, which you should be commended for, not shunned."

Remus remained silent, his eyes wider than usual as he stared at them in utter shock.

"We may be able to help you, young _Elu_," the Lady continued, her melodic voice gentle and considerate.  "If you will let us."

"I…H-How?"  Remus asked, fighting to reign in his emotions.  "How could you help me?  I admit that I hadn't thought to see if the moon in these skies matched my home world's, but other than locking me up for the duration of the moon's fullest hours…I really don't see what could be done."

"The Healers of your world have made many remarkable advances, that is true," the Lord of the Galadhrim offered after a moments pause.  "But where spirit and magic is concerned, their methods are far behind those of Elven making.  You must make peace with the demon inside you, you must triumph over it; or you will never know true peace."

"Triumph…but _how?_"

"That," Galadriel offered another kind smile, "is where you need my help.  The full moon is still many days off, so we have time.  I will send for you tomorrow, after midday.  Until then, you must go to your well-deserved and quite necessary rest."

Realizing that he was being dismissed, Remus had just enough sense to bow before hurriedly leaving the room, to make his way to the telain that served as a home to both Sirius and himself, a short distance away, his confused mind only just registering the Lady's send-off, "Sleep well, young _Elu_."

"Many of the youths that are here with us now claim to have been as far off as the Slytherin dormitories before being pulled here, Lucius.  Why your son is not among them demands investigation.  Is he not loyal to my cause?"

"I have had no reason to think so, my lord."  Lucius Malfoy replied, bowing deeply to his leader, who stood looking out one of _Barad-dûr's_ windows, at the hellish landscape below.  "He was born to follow you."

"Born, yes," the Dark Lord nodded, "but how was he raised?"

"He never showed any hesitations towards our cause, my lord."

"Of course not," the heir of Slytherin shook his head, "you would not have allowed that."

"No, my lord, I would not.  Never."  The blonde's verification lacked any diffidence whatsoever.  When the older wizard didn't speak again, he hesitantly added, "Perhaps it was something to do with the wards, my lord.  He may have been with Severus, my lord.  _He_ was not pulled here."

"No, he was not."  Voldemort replied softly, his strangely calm, yet nonetheless demonic gaze still on the land below, where the natives of this depraved land were gathering.  "We shall see, I suppose.  But for now, we mustn't keep our new subordinates waiting."

Malfoy bowed again as his lord swept past, carefully ignoring the sweat that graced his brow.

Draco Malfoy sighed as he made his way through the glittering city, not quite sure what had made him get out of bed for this midnight stroll, but he really didn't feel like heading back to bed.

This city was a strange one, to be sure.  But that didn't make it any less amazing.  It was a magical city, to be sure.  He could feel it in the very air.  Magic far older and greater than even that which Hogwarts boasted.  It hummed through the air, the earth, _everything_, a constant, reassuring presence to a perplexed mind that was accustomed to being alone.  It was undoubtedly this power, at least in part, that made the trees grow to towering heights of gold and silver, while offering protection to its inhabitants.

"You are awake rather late, my young friend."

He started, turning sharply towards the voice, and paling slightly when his eyes were graced with the sight of the city's fair ruler.  "Lady…" he bowed uncertainly.

"There's no need for that," the Elf waived him up with an amused smile, before gesturing for him to walk with her, which he did, with only a little hesitation.

"I…I apologize if I woke you, lady…" the teenager offered uncertainly after a few moments of silence.

To his surprise, she laughed.  "Oh certainly not, young one."  The she offered him another kind smile.  "My people need little sleep, and I don't feel the need to take it.  Though your concern is appreciated."  This time, she didn't leave him waiting for long, so he wasn't forced to make sense of his even more bewildered brain just yet.  "You are unsure of yourself, and your place here."

The Malfoy heir stopped abruptly, raising his perplexed, silvery eyes to meet hers.  Was she a Legilimens, then?  That was the only thing that could explain how she knew what he was thinking…but he hadn't met her gaze!  That was one reason he made a point of not looking adults in the eye more than necessary.  That was how Legilimens' examined your thoughts, how they saw into your mind.  His father had made sure to drive that point home at a very young age, which was why he never looked into _his_ eyes either.

'_That may be so, in your world, young one, but there are many other forms of magic._'

Draco suppressed the urge to gulp, while nervously replying, "You…You can read my thoughts?"

'_If I wish to yet, though your pain is rather difficult to ignore in any case._'  She replied with a nod, before continuing down the path they'd been walking on, while still conversing with him, her voice; terrible in its power and beauty, echoing within his mind.  '_My kin are naturally empathetic, though, so your pain was rather difficult to ignore.  I would like to offer you my aid._'

"Aid…Lady?"  Draco asked hesitantly, stopping when he realized they'd reached the top of a set of stairs that went down into strangely empty area.  After a moment he followed the Elven Lady down into the clearing, his thoughts still confused as they fell on a pedestal in the center of the clearing, upon which rested a strange mirror.

The Lady of the Golden Wood left him in silence for several moments, as she filled a pitcher of crystalline water at a fountain along the other side of the grove, before coming back towards him, and stopping at the mirror.  The soft smile that had been almost as ever-present on her fair face as the annoying twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was gone, replaced by a somber façade.  "Will you look into my Mirror?"

Draco blinked, his eyes automatically snapping back down towards said mirror, before looking up at her once again.  "Is it a magic mirror?"

The small smile she offered was disquietingly analogous to the smirk his family was both famous and infamous for, but instead of replying right away, she took another step towards the mirror, moving the water pitcher our of the protective circle of her arms and holding is a good distance above the mirror before tipping it slightly, to let a crystalline cascade flow out of it.  She then chose to reply, while most of his attention was focused on the soothing and yet oddly enrapturing sight the waters journey made.  "It offers many answers, many possibilities.  And can do just as much harm as good.  It is a chance."  That said, she brought the pitcher upright once again, before walking over to the fountain again, and placing it along the edge, which seemed to be built for it.  "But is it a chance you are willing to take?"

Not sure of what to say to that, the young wizard remained silent, waiting for her to continue, which she did.

"You are not a Gryffindor, not prone to taking risks, no matter what the cause; you are cautious.  You are not a Hufflepuff; not inclined to trust, and indeed, you've had little reason to.  You are not a Ravenclaw; so this water does not inspire an unquenchable thirst for knowledge; just curiosity.  You are a Slytherin; clever and ambitious; used to watching and waiting until the opportune moment for profitable action.  Is now such a moment, young one?  Or is it not?"

"I…"  Draco stopped, his former anxiety returning full force.

She'd just pointed out one of the things that made him different.  Whereas most of his housemates, and even his own father were on the other side, he was here, with the Head of his school House the only Slytherin nearby.

Was that why he felt so out of place?  Was it a good enough reason to take the other side?

He didn't know…  All he had was questions…He didn't have any answers…

Answers…  Perhaps he should look into this mirror.  If that was what it offered, he really didn't have anything to loose, now did he?

That decided, he drew in a deep breath of the crisp autumnal air, before taking the remaining few steps to the center of the clearing, where he stood looking down into the pool that offered a view of his own reflection backed by darkness.

Maybe that was what made him take it seriously.  If there had been an atrocious sum of spoke and glitter it'd look far too much like Divination for him to consider it authentic, but this didn't look fake…  It looked… _powerful_.

And that thought wasn't challenged when it began to change, starting with a single ripple at the center of the dish, which broke his watching reflection, before pulling his psyche inward.

_"You are a **Malfoy**, Draco," he heard his father's voice again, the forbidding image his father had made to his six-year-old mind snapping into focus on the aquatic surface.  "It's past time you started acting like one!"_

_"He is very young, Lucius, dear," he remembered his mother intervening, as she'd done from time to time, "you can't really expect him to--"_

_The impact of the open handed blow that had echoed around the room back then was no less alarming now, followed by the cry his six-year-old self offered as he fan over to his mother, where she'd fallen on the floor, "Mother!"_

_"If I ever want your opinion, I will ask for it, Narcissa, darling."  The Head of the Malfoy family snapped, glaring down at her where she was sitting on the soft green carpeting, one hand to her reddening cheek, and the other gently rubbing her son's back as he clung to her.  The sounds of his sobs drew the older Malfoy's disgusted glare with ease, "And stop that infernal racket!" he added sharply.  "Malfoys do **not** cry!"_

Draco swallowed in order to rewet his throat as he watched his six-year-old self turn his tear-stained face slightly, to watch from within his mother's embrace as his father swept away regally.  He didn't have time to think about that, the last time he'd ever cried, as the image changed to another, slightly more recent image.

_"Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Malfoy," Ollivander offered an amiable nod as the then eleven-year-old Draco followed his father into the wand shop.  "Hogwarts bound, I presume?" _

_"Of course," His father replied coolly, gazing down at the other wizard with cold eyes.  "Draco."_

He remembered how nervous he'd felt when he'd walked into that store, and he really did look it, as he stepped out from behind his father to raise an uncertain stare up to the older wizard.

_"Your wand arm, if you please, Mr. Malfoy," Ollivander directed firmly as he drew a roll of magical measuring tape out of a drawer. _

_His younger self held out his right arm, and didn't even blink when the tape leapt at him and immediately began measuring. _

_"Your wand, I trust, has kept well, Mr. Malfoy?" the wand maker threw the inquiry over his shoulder as he began taking some boxes off of the shelves. _

_"It has," the older Malfoy replied, while watching Draco._

Draco remembered then quite vividly too, how amusing he'd found the measuring tape.  It really didn't need to measure the distance between his nostrils, but he'd made a humorous sight, staring at it cross-eyed as his eleven-year-old self was now doing.  He also remembered suddenly becoming aware of the weight of his father's stare, which was why he'd slapped the tape away when it began measuring the space between his eyes.

_"That'll do," the wand-maker had called abruptly, so much so that Draco now got the sense that he'd been waiting for something like that.  But at the time he'd been more concerned with the boxes on the counter, one of which Mr. Ollivander was opening as he approached him.  "Right then, Mr. Malfoy.  Try this one.  Maple and phoenix feather.  Seven inches, quite whippy." _

_He hadn't felt anything when he'd waived the peculiar wand around.  This was presumably why the wand maker had snatched it back so quickly. _

_"No, no, that won't do.  Try this one," he instructed, handing him another wand.  "Beachwood and dragon heartstring.  Nine inches.  Nice and flexible."  But he'd snatched that one back before he'd even had a chance to try a wave.  "No, no -- here, ebony and dragon heartstring, ten inches, quite strict.  Go on, go on, try it out."_

_He'd only gotten halfway though a wave before the wand was snatched back._

_"Hmm, close, but not quite…perhaps yew?"  He'd moved back to the shelves, climbing the ladder until he reached the top shelf, and pulled one of those boxes down.  "Here we go; Yew with dragon's heartstring, ten and a half inches, exacting but constrained.  Give it a wave."_

_He remembered the sudden warmth that had seeped into his hand and through his body, the thrill that **this was the one** even before he'd waived it threw the air, causing it to shoot off a stream of silver and gold sparks. _

_"Oh, well done, Mr. Malfoy!  Well done indeed.  It seems we have a match." _

_Draco hadn't wanted to part with his wand, but it was what was expected of him, so it wasn't surprising that he did so readily. _

_"That will be fourteen Galleons, Mr. Malfoy.  Thank you," The wand maker bowed as they departed, "A good day to you!" _

He remembered the relief, and the complete and utter feeling of contentment he'd felt in that moment, when he and his wand had first become acquainted.  The reason for the relief was obvious.  Somewhere, buried down deep inside him had been that terrible fear that maybe; just maybe, he wouldn't measure up.  He knew he wasn't a Squib, but his father had always talked about people who barely had any grasp of their powers, or only just enough to use their wand.

Most of them were labeled as Squibs and sent away before the end of their first year at school, no use in wasting anything on them, after all.  At least, that was what his father had always told him, when he was growing up.  But he had his doubts now; he'd seen far too many people who might fit that description to not reconsider the train of thought.  Longbottom had been the first was to offer insight into that.  Not intentionally, of course, but with all of the other's inadequacies, he'd made it through his first year.  Now he knew that beneath the nervous exterior was a good deal of strength, but before it had given him reason to doubt.  Perhaps he should thank Longbottom for that…maybe…  That had turned his attention to that there were people around him that really didn't measure up in his mind.  For starters; Crabbe and Goyle, seniors and juniors…

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts, blinking slightly as he noticed another ripple crossing the mirrors surface, before it changed into another distant scene.  This one wasn't that far after the first, and it was one he still looked back on with at least a small amount of hurt, though he was fully aware of the fact that he had been a jerk…

_"Is it true?" he remembered asking, and he could see in retrospect that the ascendancy façade he'd decided to act with at school, the way his father had taught him to behave in public; like a Malfoy: poised, wintry and beyond compare, had slipped a little to reveal.  In its place was a glimmer of the very real interest in the boy he was addressing, the boy he'd very nearly ignored when he'd first met him in Madam Malkins.  "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment.  So it's you, is it?"_

_The effect of the other boy's distinctive gaze was dimmed only slightly by the unsightly glasses he wore balanced precariously on his nose, and more so by the fact that he didn't focus on Draco himself for long, instead choosing to glance past him with a frown.  He noticed this after glancing up at the other boy's forehead, to make sure **the scar** was really there.  The dark-haired wizard didn't look like much, after all.  If not for his scar and his eyes, he'd easily be passed up as a scrawny little no body…_

_But there was something about him that made him doubt that.  He wasn't sure what it was.  Power, maybe?  The Boy-Who-Lived had been responsible for the downfall of the Dark Lord, when he was only a little over a year old, after all. _

He'd like to think that he would've known even then that Harry Potter was more then he appeared to be, and even more then he was said to be…  But he was almost entirely sure the only reason he'd gone to that compartment to introduce himself was because of the other boy's unrivaled fame.

_"Oh, this is Crabbe and this Goyle," he'd commented carelessly, not letting any of his irritation at being ignored seep into his voice as he made the introduction, gesturing to each in turn.  His eleven-year-old had been very please when the soon-to-be Golden Boy's gaze had snapped back to him, and he'd stepped farther into the train compartment confidently as he continued.  "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."_

_A slight cough, which was rather obviously to suppress laughter, came from the seat across from the other wizard.  It was the first time he'd noticed the redhead, but that didn't mean he couldn't figure out who it was.  Though he really could have been more intelligent about addressing his presence.  As it was, he'd still been sensitive about his name, which he'd been teased for a few times in his youth, before his father made it clear that such mockery wouldn't be tolerated. _

_"Think my name's funny, do you?"  He'd snapped, sneering, as he looked the other up and down.  "No need to ask who you are.  My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children they can afford."  And then he'd turned his attention away from the irate wizard, sneer still in place as he sought to enlighten the Boy-Who-Lived.  "You'll soon find out some Wizarding families are **better** than others, Potter.  You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort.  I can help you there."_

_To say he'd been shocked when the other wizard hardly glanced at his hand before meeting his eyes and refusing it, would be a severe understatement.  Most, his father had told him, would consider it a **great** honor, to be offered the friendship of a Malfoy, and as a very near equal, no less. _

_"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."  Potter had replied, rather coolly. _

_He knew that he didn't quite color at the affront, but his ears probably reddened slightly.  "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he'd told the other slowly, after a few moments of tense silence.  "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents.  They didn't know what was good for them, either.  You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."_

That, he certainly knew in retrospect, had been going much too far.  Though really all of it hadn't been quite near right.  And it had escalated to the point where only a two millennia reprieve could make one forgive the other enough to make amends…

Apparently the mirror thought that this time-frame had been important for him, because the next incident had be only a little while later.  The Sorting…something he'd been both anticipating and dreading ever since the relief at (_finally_) receiving his Hogwarts letter had faded a bit.

_Professor McGonagall was no less intimidating in person then he'd always thought she'd be, from his father's descriptions.  Though he hadn't expected her to be…he didn't know…  But he'd expected her to be a bit like his father, but she wasn't.  She was obviously strict yes, but she didn't have the same **feel** to her that his father did. _

_She should be getting to his name soon…Granger, a worthless Mudblood…  Longbottom, a pureblood, but nonetheless a pansy…  Morag MacDougal and people laughed at **his** name…  And finally:_

_"Draco Malfoy!" _

_The swagger he'd put in his step as he went forward had been all for show.  Inside he was more nervous than he could ever remember feeling before. _

_This was it. _

_If he didn't make the cut…_

_What would happen to him? _

_Father would never take him back…_

_Would he go to an orphanage, then?  A **Muggle** orphanage? _

_NO!  He couldn't!  He simply **couldn't!**_

****

_'Slytherin!  Slytherin!  I have to be in **Slytherin!**"_

_Mercifully, the Hat apparently agreed, and shouted out his House only a short moment after being placed on his head.  "SLYTHERIN!"_

That hadn't been the last time he'd doubted himself, but at least he was a Hogwarts student then.  And there really weren't words for how proud (and relieved) he'd been, to receive his father's letter of approval the following morning; a rare thing, from his cold, aloof sire.  He'd sworn to himself then that he'd make his father proud if it was the last thing he did.  This was undoubtedly part of the reason he'd learned to hate the Golden Trio so much.  Hermione Granger, the Mudblood that he could never thrash academically, was one of them.__

_"Granger is not a name I am acquainted with…"  His father had shaken his head, his voice dangerously quiet as he spoke to his son, while reading the morning paper the morning Draco had received his grades from his first year studies. _

_He'd been at or near the top of all his classes, and when his grades were averaged, he was the second highest in the whole year.  But 'second best' is not really good enough for a Malfoy…_

_The soon-to-be twelve-year-old Draco shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on his breakfast as he meticulously cut a piece of sausage in half before spearing it with his fork and bringing up to his mouth.  After he'd chewed and swallowed the animal protein, he risked a quiet reply.  "That's probably because it's a Muggle name…" _

_"Muggle?"  The elder blonde murmured after a moment's silence, the word rolling off his tongue in a way that made it seem all the more disgusting…and intolerable.  "A Mudblood," he continued in the same dark tone.  "You allowed yourself to be topped, by a Mudblood."_

_"I didn't let her beat be!"  Draco remembered insisting neurotically, "She just **did!**" _

_"That simply is not possible," his father returned, choosing then raise his icy glare to his son's face.  "A witch of Muggle birth is simply not **capable** of being more magically gifted then a witch or wizard of magical birth and heritage.  That she was able to beat you, you obviously weren't showing anywhere near enough effort."  He rose then, to his towering height of foot , his chilling gaze not moving from his heir's wide eyes.  "I expect you to show the proper amount of effort in this coming school year.  One who does not consider losing to a Mudblood -- a Gryffindor Mudblood, especially -- the highest shame, is hardly worthy of this family's name!"_

_Then the elder had gracefully stalked off, to leave his young son in a state of incredible confusion, pain and fear…_

That was the first, but certainly not the last time that his father had scolded him for his failings.  It was by far the kindest, gentlest of the experiences as well.  Though it certainly hadn't felt like it at the time…  To his nearing twelve-year-old mind, the experience had been sheer torture.  And it was that which had made him so bitter as the years drew on.  That memory, and following ones, was always there; tormenting him.

But there had come a point when that had changed, and that appeared to be around the time the mirror now decided to focus on.

_"Well, I suppose now's as good a time as any…" the raven-haired wizard sighed, turning slightly to extend his hand to the open air behind him.  "Man merne le ilya an omenta sii, melda nin?"_

_Before he, or anyone else there could inquire -- or demand -- after the strange, beautiful language he'd spoken in, a feminine, musical voice spoke up in reply, while a delicate hand appeared out of thin air to accept the Gryffindors offered hand.  "Valinale…"_

_The hand was attached to a long, slender arm, and the rich indigo fabric of her silk robe concealed the unblemished skin that graced that arm from the wrist to the shoulder.  The robe was not the kind he was used to seeing, not at all.  It was a bit more…formal than that.  It was almost completely one piece, by it looked like a robe, for the upper part was mostly folded back, to reveal a form fitting, white silky blouse underneath.  The robe's coloring put a commendable emphasis on the purple highlights in her hair, highlights so dark that they were almost the same midnight shade as the rest of her silken mane.  The blouse was a little loose around her neck; so that it didn't really touch it at all, just fell to the side in the same stylish, striking poise. _

_It was easy to see that he was not the only one who was almost completely shocked by the lady's appearance.  Even Granger and Weasley looked stunned! _

_This was proved when Granger herself chose to break the silence, albeit uncertainly.  "Who…?  What…?"_

_"This is Ránëwén Galathil," Potter told her, almost nonchalantly, "or Violet -- if you prefer -- of the Elves."_

**_That_**_ brought him out of his momentary stupor.  He scrutinized her closely as he spoke with her, eyeing her innate radiance and her peculiar ears with interest even as chatter began and continued around him._

_This was certainly no house elf…She had to be one of the other kind…  The ones the servants always referred to as 'the Great Ones', or something along those lines…_

_He was drawn out of his thoughts rather quickly when the lady emitted a short, melodious laugh.  "I am no House Elf, Master Macmillion.  I am a True Elf, one of the First Born."_

_And it clicked. "The Eldar Race?" he inquired, as he remembered having read about them in one of the older sections of the Malfoy library. Then he frowned and shook his head as he remembered how all of the historical documents and legends had ended. "But they died out, centuries ago... There hasn't been any news of them since..." he shook his head again, his frown deepening as he continued, his eyes focused on the lady seated next to his…rival? "Well, before Merlin's day!"_

_"They were not 'wiped out,'" The wizard beside her told him, drawing his eyes, along with everyone else's away from their new companion, though the attention hadn't seemed to bother her at all. He shook his head. "They simply decided to separate themselves from our world, so that both worlds, Human and Elven alike, could live in peace."_

_"They didn't want to live in with humans?" Granger put in, her hazel eyes slightly narrowed._

_Potter nodded, "Yes... The Elven Nobles did not believe that the Atan, or Humans, could live in peace with a race so different from itself, one that was its equal in many things, and superior in others." He shrugged, "It was undoubtedly a wise choice, if you look to our histories for proof." _

_Draco frowned as he realized what the other wizard was indicating, even as Granger vocalized the same apprehension a moment later._

_"Humans have never withstood rivals well."_

_"But then..." the youngest of the Weasley brothers shook his head, visibly baffled."Why are you here now?"_

_"To aid you," the Elf replied simply, with what might have been a note of amusement in her sweet voice…he couldn't be sure._

_"She is here as a representative of her people, who wish to help us with the second purpose for our meeting here." Potter cut in, quite plainly making an effort to forestall any questions. _

_As a sudden realization caught him, he stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he focused an icy glare on the wizard across from him, though most of his anger was really directed towards himself. He should have realized this sooner… "And what purpose is that, Potter?" _

_"Voldemort," the Gryffindor replied coolly._

_Draco deliberately made the effort to show no visible reaction to the statement, though he was rather shaken by how nonchalantly the other offered it. _

_And indeed, Potter didn't seem even slightly bothered as he looked around at everyone present, ignoring the numerous gasps from around the table. "You are by no means required to help in this cause, but it would be rather foolish not to."_

_"It would be foolish to choose survival over certain death?" Draco forced himself to point out, knowing no one else would, but someone should, and why shouldn't he play the bad guy? It's what he'd been to all of them for the longest time, and probably still was. Though he wasn't sure what Potter thought of him anymore. He hadn't been able to read him at all this year… _

_"No. It would be foolish to hope that not becoming involved would guarantee your survival..." Potter looked around a second time, meeting all the eyes that were staring at him, waiting until he'd held each gaze for several moments before continuing. "A war is brewing. There will be casualties, as there are in all wars. There's no avoiding that. But, depending upon the victor, the outcome is two very different worlds...." _

_Very true… Everyone in Slytherin House knew that, even those that didn't want to support Voldemort, though they were few._

_"Should everyone continue to believe for as long as is absolutely possible that their is no way that Voldemort could have returned, should the vast majority of our world choose that path, Voldemort will win, and our world will fall... He will probably annihilate all Muggles, and Muggle-borns. He might then either kill off, or enslave, everyone else... And he wouldn't stop, until he has it all. And by that time, it would be too late for anyone to stop him..."_

_"Even if that's true," a blonde Ravenclaw cut in, terror plain in her wide eyes. "How could we ever stop that? We're just kids!"_

_"And as I said before, Miss Snitch," Potter didn't miss a beat in reply as he shook his head in a manner that looked very Dumbledore-like, "as long as you believe that, you will be a child, and you will be looked down upon..." He held her gaze for several moments before looking around again. "Voldemort has no reason to spare anyone in this room." _

_Draco kept all of his inner turmoil firmly suppressed even as the Gryffindor then chose to meet his gaze._

_"He says he stands for Pureblood... and yet the only reason he hasn't killed the same number of Purebloods as he has of everyone else is because they are a minority. He doesn't really care about his followers. When they fail him, he punishes them; sometimes he even takes their lives. He tortures them on a regular basis, probably to ensure that none ever think of trying to overthrow him. All his words of glory to those of Pureblood and whatnot are just that; words. He still needs his followers. He can't take the world by himself, so he manipulates a semi-powerful minority into following him. He doesn't really care about them, anymore then he believes in what he says. Everything he says, he says for only one reason; it's what his Death Eaters want to hear. It's what keeps them believing that they are right in following him.... Do you really want to become a minion, Malfoy? An expendable soldier, for a lie?" As he finished, he looked around, "Do any of you who might turn to him, really want to be that? To fight for him simply because he says he supports something that you benefit from?" _

_Now Draco couldn't help but frown, as everything the other wizard had said was very true. He'd noticed some of it himself, in the late, sleepless hours of the night both here at Hogwarts and at home. _

_"Do you?"_

_The Malfoy heir shook his head slightly, a quiet denial rolling off his tongue with ease. "No..."_

_Potter was silent for several moments, probably letting all of them think on what had just been said. Though Weasley didn't seem to be doing much thinking, how could he be when he was **still** glaring at him? Really, wouldn't that brat **ever** grow up?_

_  
"I think this is a good time for us to depart. It's getting late. You'll receive word of the next meeting through the House Elves again."_

_"I was wondering about that," The Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Johnson, he thought, spoke up. "Isn't it awful risky? Trusting the House Elves with something we don't want anyone else to know about? I mean, I know that there supposed to be unconditionally loyal and all, but that loyalty is probably to the school and the headmaster, more than the students. Isn't there a chance that they might report us?"_

_"No," Her fellow Gryffindor shook his head, "Not with Violet here." _

_Everyone glanced at **her** again, although many of the boys didn't need to, as they'd been staring at her for a while anyhow._

_"All House Elves hold an innately deep respect for the Eldar Race. They're the only People that a House Elf would ever in their right mind consider disobeying or betraying their master for...Which will undoubtedly be very useful to us.... Good night, my friends."_

**Friends… **

Maybe that was why he'd really joined them.

Potter had made him feel like he _mattered_ in a way that no one had ever tried to before.

It seemed that to Potter, even more so in their later encounters, Draco was just Draco.  Not Malfoy, not the Slytherin Prince, or the Future Death Eater.  He was just…Draco, a young, independent wizard with the same rights as everyone else.

It was a nice feeling…

In retrospect it would have been more polite to bow, or at least thank Harry's Foster-Mother before leaving the clearing, after the mirror had darkened once again.  But he was far too lost to thought to consider it, and he hoped she'd later find in her heart to forgive him…

They were a dark and horrible mass to be sure; the bat-like-birds that made their way down through the hellish area the orcs were working in.  The dreadful surroundings didn't seem to bother the fervent Crebain anymore than they bothered the workers.  They were excited, a fact that didn't affect the wizard who commanded them at all.  They _always_ seem to be like that.  A great bunch of darkness and chaos only just useful for the purpose they now served.

The frown that had adorned the White Wizard's face for a time faded slightly at the news they brought, a smirk taking its place.  "So Gandalf, you try to lead them over Caradhras.  And if that fails, where then will you go?" he wondered aloud, ignoring the white-masked, black-robed trio a few feet behind him.  These Death Eaters had just come to him as representatives of their 'lord', who had become another of Sauron's allies.  Ordinarily that wouldn't have bothered him.  But this lord and all his followers were experts in magical warfare, something he was not accustom to, and the magical realm was supposed to be his domain…  "And if that fails," he forced himself to continue, suppressing those worries.  "Where then will you go?"

The Death Eaters followed him, clearly making an effort to keep a good distance between them and the filthy orcs that worked around them as he made his way back up to the surface, before leading the way back into his tower, as he continued to mount the steps.  "You may wait there," he told them, when they reached the inside, gesturing to the sitting room off to the right.

As the Death Eater obediently made their way inside, making themselves comfortable, the 'Head' of the Istari Order continued on his way up to the Orthanc.  "If the mountain defeats you, will you risk a more dangerous road?" he wondered aloud once again, as he reached the top, and turned his eyes to the mountain in question.  He smirked, before raising his arms, his staff grasped firmly in his right hand.  "_Illosto Caradhras!  Nuitho i'ruith ilmilya!  Lala i'lie man vanta le falqua!_"  He growled as he felt his former friend and ally resist him.  "_Fainui'ruitha undamo aikale!  __Illosto taura Caradhras!_"  A smirk etched its way across his face as he watched a mighty bolt of lightning show the connection between the peak and the storm above that would undoubtedly serve to start yet another avalanche.

After waiting a few moments to see if the Gray Wizard would offer any response, though not seriously expecting any, he made his way back inside, and down to his upper study.  He paused before making his way over to the shelves, and taking a hardbound book from the shelves.  His smirk was more pronounced after a few moments of flipping through the pages.  "Moria…  You fear to go into those mines," he murmured, shaking his head as he remembered a conversation he'd had with the other Istari only a few decades back.  "The Dwarves delved too greedily and too deep…  You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dûm: _Shadow_ and _flame_…"

He leaned back in his seat, pleased with himself as he watched through the window as the storm continued to build up over the mountain.  He knew Gandalf would try to pacify the monstrosity, but he would not allow that.  He couldn't allow them the safer passage they sought.  And reason for that was what he must now go to describe to his new, superfluous allies.

_Gandalf sighed as he eyed the party behind him, most of who were shivering from the bitter cold, which was only enhanced by the blizzard that whistled and roared all around them and the snow they'd just partially struggled their way out of.  After a moment he shook his head, looking towards Frodo.  "Let the Ring-bearer decide."_

_His pain deepened somewhat as the Hobbit looked up in part surprise, part horror, from where Aragorn was helping both him and Sam._

_"We cannot stay here!  This will be the death of the Hobbits!"  Boromir shouted up to them, drawing attention to his own wards.  Merry and Pippin were both unnaturally pale, with their teeth chattering as violent shivers tore through them._

_"Frodo?"  Gandalf asked as quietly as was truly possible, drawing the young one's attention back to him, his eyes sad._

_The Ring-bearer bit his lip for a moment, before nodding, his weariness as evident in his voice as it was in his eyes and bearing.  "We will go through the mines."_

_"So be it…"  Gandalf nodded…_

That was how they'd come to be where they were now; making their way down the steep slope they'd been climbing only a few days before.

It should have been easier to go down instead of up, but in this case it was not.  The slope was appallingly steep, and one wrong step could result in a fatal fall, so they had to watch their footing _very_ closely.

Legolas was the only one that didn't seem to have any trouble with it, as he could still balance on top of the snow with incredible ease.  So he was a fair distance ahead of them, watching as they followed him.  That way he could catch any of them if they did happen to slip.

Saruman's storm still raged overhead, a constant menace to their journey downward, which both sped them on with the risk it portrayed, and slowed them down with disheartenment.

Gandalf had _tried_ to send it on its way several times, tried to pacify the Red Horn, but every attempt had been met with even more severe violence, as Saruman continued to oppose them.

Noting that the Hobbit's continuing difficulty seemed to be worsening, Legolas sighed quietly, before calling up to Gandalf in a voice that certainly carried, but should not echo.  "Perhaps we should take a short rest, Mithrandir?"

The Pilgrim nodded immediately, his eyes focusing on the Ring-bearer as the younger being collapsed almost immediately, falling back into a rather awkward sitting position.  The rest of the Fellowship carefully made its way over to join him, sitting in an ovular shape on the precipitous incline.

They rested for several minutes before Frodo said he was ready to move on again, though he very clearly wasn't.  He obviously wanted to get off the mountain.  And they couldn't really blame him.  So they followed his example in rising again.

And then disaster struck once more.  Whether it be by Saruman's manipulations of natures own tendencies, lightning struck the Red Horn's might peak once more, and an avalanche began to roll down towards them, now, when they had no cover…

**_End Chapter 14._**

**Translations:**

_Mestas_ - Journeys

_Nenya_ - The Ring of Adamant, One of the Three Elven Rings of Power. (Keeper: Galadriel)

_Uma _- Yes

_Barad-dûr _- "The greatest fortress-tower on Middle Earth in the Second and Third Age of the Sun was Barad-dûr in the evil land of Mordor. Called the Dark Tower by Men and Lugbúrz by Orcs…"

"_Nai Vala…_" - "By the Valar…"

_Lothlórien_ - The Golden Wood

_Imladris_ - Rivendell__

_Eryn Lasgalen _- Greenwood the Great

_Qualme __Rauko_ - (Painful) Death Demon (Elvish name for "Death Eaters")

_Heri'amilnin_ - "My lady mother" (Harry referring to Galadriel)

"_Illosto Caradhras! Nuitho i'ruith ilmilya! Lala i'lie man vanta le falqua! Fainui'ruitha undamo aikale! Illosto taura Caradhras!_" - Spell - "Awaken Red Horn! Hold your wrath no more! Deny those who walk on you passage! Release your wrath down upon them! Awaken mighty Red Horn!"

**Response to Reviews:**

**Calen** - Thank you.

LOL, yes, poor Harry L .

Sigh, As I said before, I don't have any slash planned, I've never written it before, and I'm not sure I'd be able to, but it might come up. I apologize if that offends you, but that's life. It won't be any of the _main_ characters…well, none of the good ones anyway, as I already have most of their roles completely planned out, but it could still happen.

**Rhinemjr** - …Umm…Sorry, not answering…

If he doesn't find her/loses hope that he might, yes, he will die.

LOL, thank you.

**Serebabe** - Thank you, I'm glad.

CoughCough Umm…AU. Technically, Ránëwén's father was Haldir, and Rumil and Orophin's _half_-brother, so that explains the differing name a bit more. But other then that, the only real explanation is this is AU, and I wanted her to be related to Haldir, so I made him her uncle…father didn't seem realistic.   
 

**Lunawolf** - Thank you

LOL, yes, there is hope.

Glad you like it…

There was a little more interaction here, wasn't there? And their should be more next time.

LOL, yes, I though that'd be amusing…

**Musicstarlover** - Thank you.

LOL, if you wanted to add the accent you'd have to copy and paste it out of Word or something… I'm not sure the review board would take it though, so shrugs…

Thank you, I'm glad you like it. LOL, yes, flavor.

**Liath/Jeni Black** - Thanks, I'm glad you like it.   
I know! My brother and sister-in-law brought my niece over today. (We were having Mother's Day dinner a day early, because we won't be here tomorrow.) …She's only a little over six weeks old, so she doesn't do much. It was weird though. All she mostly did before was sleep. Now she mostly stares at the people around her. I swear, it's like she's afraid she'll miss something! She _really_ didn't want to take her nap!

Yeah, it would've been nice to ask Tolkien a few things about this wonderful world, wouldn't it? Then again, if he was still around, he might not have let his books be turned into movies… Shudders That'd be _terrible!_

Oh yes, there's a very big chance. As I'm sure you can now see. And yes, it should be interesting.

Ta!

**Laen** - LOL, thanx.

Maybe, maybe not.

He's kind of joined already, though he should be more active in the next chapter. Umm…Sorry, I can't explain that, too important. pouts

**Kevin**-**McKay** - LOL

Yes, that is a scary thought, isn't it?

Hmm… I'm not sure 'recover' is the best word….We'll see.

Umm…yes, it's very likely. And yes, they are.

**Lady** **Melime** **Alasse** - Glad to hear it.

Yes it should, shouldn't it?

Thank you.

**Serpent** - **-- This _is_ the story.**

**Orome1**(bha79yahoo.com) - Smirks Thank you.

Umm… You know, really, I'm not quite sure. I hadn't even originally planned it out as part of the plot line, it just sort of worked its way in.

LOL, yes, Voldemort, Sauron and Saruman should be an interesting alliance…

**Estel** **Potter** - LOL, we'll see.

Smirks Yes, that _will_ be interesting. He hasn't quite realized that yet…

LOL, yes, that would be funny. Unfortunately, we're not quite set up for that.

'Light's Chosen'? '_Kala Kaano_'? Hmm, maybe.

LOL, OK, thank you.

**DragonTamer9741** - Umm…OK…Yes, I think you're right. I'll take a look when I go back to edit Chapter 1. Thanx.

**Tempest** - Hmm, really? OK…

**Herald-Mage Brianna** - Thanks. We'll see.

Soon.

**Elf**-**frodo**-**believer/Treeneejohnson** - LOL, I think something was wrong with FF.net.

Glad to hear it.

LOL, that's kind of the point.

LOL…OK, should be interesting…

Thank you. It's a lot of work, but I think it's worth it.

Bye!

**Chaiyya** - I'm glad.

…Dumbledore's…

Hmm, I'm not sure… Depends on what series you're talking about. I don't know what Tolkien put for restrictions… There aren't any Elflings around at this time though, so I really haven't thought about it… Sorry… --

**Damaru** **Jigoku** - YAY!!! Someone who openly aggress with me! :-D

I know it can be hard sometimes, but I think it's worth it. Subtitled movies can be that much better then dubbed just because they have the right language in them, and everyone still goes through the trouble of reading the subtitles. So, shrugs, I've cut back, but I certainly won't stop.

**Phoenix** **catcher** - Thank you.

Found any worth recommending after this one? 

**Thanks to****:**

**Nimohtar** -

**Athenakitty**

**Blip-dragon**

**DeFox**

**Heather-Hezzer-and-Honaluki**

**AJaKe** - Sigh Yes, I suppose it has… Sorry --

**Kitiara** - LOL…When you flat-out say it that way I suppose it does sound pretty weird…

**Lirael** **Goldenhand**

**The Lady Reaper of the Shadows**

**CastusAlbusCor** - blinkblink …OK…

**The** **Mystical** **Elf**

**Raclswt** - LOL, English is better than math…at least in my case.

**Anonymous**

**Nienna** - LOL

**Zaminieinstein**

**Szelij**

**AJ**

**Gaul1**

**HAZZAGRIFF**

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**Anodreth Illuvine** -

**Rian**

**Felix**

**GODSPEEDNIGHT**

**AN****: Hmm, 44 Reviews, not bad guys. Not as good as usual, but still not bad. **

**What'd you think? Just so you know, I was intentionally being lazy in the last scene. It didn't need much to get the point across, and I'm tired, so I didn't mind just meeting the minimum and leaving it there. I might change it later, who knows…**

**Anyway, tell me what you think! Worth more time? (Worth continuing?)**

**REVIEW!!!**

**Bye! **

** Jess S**


	16. Chapter 15: Quentele

**

* * *

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**AN: I'd like to thank my beta-reader, Shadowsong, for all her hard work.**

* * *

**There and Back Again**

**_Chapter 15: Quentele_**

**By Jess S**

Harry stopped, a frown that easily melded puzzlement with fear gracing his youthful features. "Hauta..." {Stop}

He didn't need to raise his voice from above that slight whisper; barely loud enough to be heard even by Elven ears, for the twins had also sensed that something was amiss. They could feel it in their bones, just as he could, though certainly in a different way.

The wizard's eyes rose from the near-invisible trail they'd been following across the snowy landscape, up to the mountain those tracks led to: the great, towering Red Horn.

That was where the Fellowship was...

And that was where the _wrongness_ was.

"Man ta?" Camthalion inquired after several hushed moments.

He wasn't asking why they'd stopped, he was questioning what it was that made the very air around them disquiet. Everyone there knew that, but that didn't mean either of those he offered the inquiry to knew the answer.

"_Quiet..._" Harry murmured, closing his eyes and falling into a light trance in order to reach outward with his thoughts, to make his inquiry of the elements.

_This world was far kinder then his own. It had not been wronged as his was, which was undoubtedly the reason he felt at ease while handling it. He'd grown from that incident on his native world, his mind had become that much more confident, his vision that much farther, his magic that much stronger. And that was surely what made reaching out to this world so easy._

_Ilúvatar's creation offered no real resistance and certainly no hostility towards him. It welcomed him, and swiftly brought the information he sought to his attention._

The twins waited patiently, if a bit nervously for him to finish his investigation. Their identical gazes looked all the more alike as a result of their similar frames of mind.

"Elerossë? Man ta?" Rúmil asked a few moments after his eyes had flown open.

Harry shook his head to clear it, a deep frown quickly overriding his formerly neutral expression. "Raika..." {Trouble}

* * *

The Fellowship had seen many things since they set out from Lord Elrond's city, and many of its members had seen a great deal in the years before this quest, but there are few things that can compare to nature's unleashed wrath. The avalanche when they were near Caradhras' peak was nothing compared to this. There, they'd been at least partially sheltered by the mountain itself, and the calamity had been over soon after it had begun, as had the other natural avalanche's they'd seen while climbing, before they'd learned not to shout in the heights. _This_ was _different_...

On this part of the mountain, it was still steep enough to make travel difficult, but it offered no shelter whatsoever. The wave of snow that rolled towards them seemed unstoppable; a white wall of impending doom. Time seemed to slow as it came; the coming avalanche overpowered all sound with its mind-numbing roar, even as the air somehow became crisper and cooler, offering no assistance whatsoever.

"Move closer together!" Gandalf ordered the rest of the Fellowship, hastily throwing a shielding spell out around their group, to protect all of them from the monstrosity that was coming their way. But it wouldn't be able to block much of anything at the lengths and angles it was stretched, which was why he wanted all of them to move closer together before bracing themselves for the coming onslaught.

The other members of the Fellowship scrambled to obey. Legolas offered what help he could to the others, gathering around Gandalf with as much speed as was possible. Gimli refused his help, and the Elf didn't press the point, as the dwarf was closer to the proper destination then all of the hobbits were. Instead, he raced sure-footedly over the treacherous slope to where Merry and Pippin were struggling up a particularly steep part of the slope, grabbing both of them, by an arm each; he half dragged them up the slope to where Gandalf was strengthening his shield.

That done, he turned next to hurry the short distance across the slope it was to Sam, who was trying to make the pony, Bill, overcome his terror at the approaching terror in order to reach safety. When he reached them, Legolas quickly helped Sam mount the pony and with Aragorn's help, and Boromir's once they reached him, they managed to move the frightened creature to safety.

And then a solid mass of snow slammed into the shield, pushing it downhill towards them several feet before Gandalf finally managed to bring it to a halt. This continued for some time, as the snow hurtled against their shelter, rolling over and around their safe haven, making their bones rattle as it made the land they were crouched down upon tremble. Nevertheless, several minutes later complete silence and utter stillness reigned over them, and they found themselves incased in a small, dome shaped building of snow, which was packed tightly around them on all sides, as well as on top of the, where it had come to rest as it lost momentum.

Very slowly, they all rose, looking to Gandalf for direction. And after a moment, the wizard nodded. "It is over," he told them, relief clear in his voice as he slowly let most of the shield fall, only leaving enough in place to make sure the snow didn't cave in on them. He looked down the slope a few feet to where the rear wall of snow was. "We should dig out there, as that is where the snow is thinnest--"

"Mr. Gandalf?"

With a sigh, the Istari turned towards the inquiring hobbit. "Yes, Samwise?"

"Wh-Where's Frodo?"

* * *

"Solmenique..." {An avalanche} Camthalion shook his head, offering his friend a skeptical look, "Le mere nornoro men ampende, lenwa an solmenique?" {You want us to run up a mountain, directly into an avalanche?}

"Laume," {No,} Harry shook his head, smirking slightly as he reached a hand into one of his inner pockets. He drew his wand with the other, and released the objects he took from his hand, only to point his wand at the small floating items, returning them to their original, usable size with a simple, "_Engorgio._"

Rúmil nodded his approval as he stepped forward to take one of the brooms, "That will work."

Camthalion rolled his eyes but otherwise offered no comment as he took the one remaining broomstick. "_We'd best be going,_" he commented, eyeing the wave of snow that was rolling towards them at increasing velocities. "_This location won't be safe much longer._"

The others nodded, and then both twins followed Harry's lead as he kicked up off the ground, rising quickly into the chill air.

Though there were still some differences between the three of them, innate distinctions that made them who they were, one of the many topics all three of them could agree one was flying. Before Harry came, there wasn't really anyway one of the Eldar could simply take to the air and fly of there own accord. On magical broomsticks they were free to explore Manwe's realm with ease, drifting to and fro over the lands the Valar had carved so long ago.

But now was not the time for sightseeing or anything of the sort. They knew that the Fellowship was somewhere on that mountain and they had to find them, or at the very least find the Ring bearer…

The twins were silent as they followed the Lady's foster son higher and higher up the mountain, closer and closer to the avalanche that had already rolled halfway down the steep incline. When he stopped only to hover, muttering words under his breath, they came up alongside him, scanning the mountain with the Elven eyesight.

Seeing nothing aside from a large amount of snow moving at high speed, both turned towards the wizard questioningly, and Rúmil chose to break the silence. "Elerossë?"

Harry's brow was furrowed in concentrations. "_They're up there… Mithrandir has a magical dome around them, protecting them…But there are only eight within it, and the Ring is not with them…_" he grimaced, and both twins' expressions echoed his.

"_So the Ring bearer has been separated from them,_" Camthalion summarized.

"Uma," Harry nodded. "_We have to find him… The fall alone could kill him, and being buried under several feet of hard-packed snow won't help him if he survives the avalanche itself… I can find him with a tracking spell, but he's going to need to be warmed up, and some pepper-up potion would probably be a good idea to._"

Both twins nodded again, frowning slightly, "_We could set camp if you don't need our help…But shouldn't we aid the Fellowship?_"

Harry shook his head, "Lau, _they're fine as they are now…they should be able to dig themselves out with little trouble… Mr. Baggins will be in considerably more danger._"

"_Then we should and shall do our best to aid the young one,_" Rúmil spoke this time, turning slightly back the way they came. "_We should probably wait for the avalanche to end, before setting camp, if we want to stay near the mountain._"

"_Don't bother,_" Harry told them, "_fly over to one of the hills about a few hours walk away from here and set camp on one of the ones that has water and offers a good view of its surroundings. The Fellowship can follow the smoke of our campfire to us tomorrow, and it's only a few minutes in flight._"

"_As you will it, _heru nin," the twins replied in unison, nodding respectfully before turning and heading off in the direction he'd bid them.

"Right," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Now we need a locator spell..." he frowned, considering the numerous spells he'd come across for this stipulation. After several moments he winced, shaking his head in a self-depreciating manner as he drew his wand. "Sometimes the simplest way's the best... _Point me to Frodo Baggins_."

His wand spun in his hands once before, narrowing its search down to the mountain, sweeping to and fro, each sweeps smaller than its predecessor, until it was finally pointing down to the eastern side of the mountain, a short distance from where the snow-slide appeared to be ending.

"_Ducis Lumos,_" the wizard murmured when wand stopped, while moving in that general direction. After a small ball of light had bloomed out of the end of his wand, he took hold of the wand again, to return it to the empty holder on his left arm. "Let's go," he nodded to the hovering ball of white light, which promptly shot off in the direction his wand had been pointing.

If he wasn't a natural seeker and flyer, Harry probably would have had trouble keeping up with the indicator, that or keeping an eye on it while keeping up. But he managed.

A short time later, it stopped, hovering over some of the newly settled snow.

Coming up beside it, Harry nodded, drawing his wand again, to dismiss it. "_Finite_ _Incantatum_…" After a moment of looking over the area, he shook his head before moving through a series of spell, waving, flicking and pointing his wand when necessary. After the faint anti-gravity mist he'd started with ensured that the snow would not start to move again when he removed some, he pointed at the area the light had been hovering over, loosening the snow with a quick flick, and summoning his prey to him, "_Accio Frodo Baggins._"

The snow easily moved out of the way as his magic pulled the near-frozen and unconscious hobbit to the surface. Once the hobbit was clear of the snow and hovering near him, he put the levitation charm to use, in order to guarantee his present safety.

The wizard sighed, shaking his head, as he looked the younger being over. They were going to have to pay close attention to his hands and feet, less he loose them to frostbite. Why the hobbits didn't wear footwear even in this climate was beyond him.

With another sigh he banished some of the snow from the now shivering form, heating the air around him slightly before transfiguring some of the snow into a thick white blanket to wrap around his new charge.

Seeing nothing else he could do here, Harry spelled the snow back into place slightly, though didn't really bother trying to hide the fact that he'd changed it. Then he headed off towards the campsite again.

* * *

The Lord of Imladris sighed as he gently pushed the door to his only daughter's room open, pausing only a short moment, to see if she was still aware enough to send him away.

She hadn't taken the news any better then he'd expected. How could she have been expected to? She and Ránëwén Galathil had been the best of friends from childhood; sharing a bond deeper then most siblings bore.

What's more, now all of them worried for Elerossë, and how his wife's passing may affect him.

Thus far, Galadriel had apparently been able to pull him out of his depressed state with the small hope that the maiden of the twilight may yet be alive...but how long could that hope last? How long could the Galadhrim's foster prince go without seeing his wife, alive, and still believing that the chance she might actually be such was anything more then a hopeful illusion?

The other news his foster mother had sent had done nothing to ease their worries of course, far from it... The theories he'd discussed with Elerossë and other Elven warriors several centuries before now seemed far too abstract when they might need to be put to the test. Wizarding warfare? Could one truly fight against and or with magic?

Elrond shook his head slightly, emitting a soft sigh as he made his way over to his still silent daughter, to where she sat, grieving on the bench of her balcony, which overlooked her mother's gardens...

This was where she grieved, after all. It was where she'd spent so much of her time when Celebrían had departed for the Undying Lands. It was a lovely view to be sure. Beyond the perpetually nascent garden, the city of Imladris stretched far across the valley, backed by distant mountains and forests, which were now the frame for the setting sun, a masterpiece that Arien had never failed to offer at the end of each day since the first dawn.

"Sina luu în..." {This was her time}

Though he may very well have been startled by his daughter's sudden, quiet words, the Half-Elven Lord did not show it.

"I yuukale... Eä na oio în..." {The twilight... It was always hers}

"Uma," Elrond nodded, offering a kind smile as he sat down beside his child.

The Evenstar was silent once more for several uncounted moments, before she turned towards her father. The tears that seeped out of her dark eyes did not stain the beauty of her fair features. No, Arwen Undómiel was not regarded as the fairest of her kind for nothing, even in tears she was a wonder to behold.

But her beauty meant nothing to her father, who only saw the pained expression those fair features were set in, and the grief that those tears represented.

"Nai Vala," he sighed as he reached out, to pull her into a gentle embrace.

That was all it took to release the seemingly endless flow of misery that had been hiding just beneath the surface of her salient gaze. It flowed out of her eyes in tiny streams and rivers that poured down her enchanting face, which was otherwise only marred by the grieving, pained expression it now bore. Those tears escaped the tight prison they'd been born of to eventually reach the shoulder their creator now wept upon. He obviously didn't care though, and didn't seem to pay his soaked robe any mind even as she pulled away from him sometime later, well after the sun had sent, darkness had ascended, and the first stars began to appear in the sky.

"A melin selde nin...nwalme le haya umart o mine nessa. Ná ungwale o nin veela nwalya le..." {My dear child... you have suffered far too much for one so young. It hurts me so to see you suffer so}

The younger Elf made an obvious effort to suppress a sob before replying quietly. "il-(leave) nin, Ada. Im nauta á--" {I can not leave, father. I am bound to--}

"Aragorn asked you to leave this land, to make for the immortal shore with the rest of your people, did he not? He therefore does not want you to stay."

"Perhaps..." Arwen shook her head, looking up slightly as she pulled farther away from him, to meet his gaze. "But I cannot leave him, Ada."

"You must...the Darkness is killing you...Your light is failing!"

"Then so be it...For I cannot leave. Not while there is still hope."

"Nothing is certain now... Victory is as likely as defeat."

"Some things are certain," she objected, shaking her head she rose to her feet, taking his hand to pull him up with her. "Ada... if I leave him now, I will regret it forever... That is something I cannot do, just as Ránëwén could not leave Elerossë, she died for him, willingly--"

"Which only served to bring him misery--"

"And happiness! Without some amount of pain, you cannot know true happiness... If a mortal death is the price I have to pay in order to love the other half of my soul, then so be it... Whatever the risks may be... I will not be leaving when the ships are ready to sail... Edhored nin, Ada, dan útir nin..." {I am sorry, Father, but I cannot...}

* * *

It wasn't all that cold anymore...

That was the first thing that Frodo noticed upon awakening. There was still a slight chill to the air, but he seemed to be almost completely protected from it. That was something he hadn't been able to find during the last few weeks of their journey; refuge from the cold.

Apparently they'd found it now...

Were they off the mountain? Was that it?

He could remember turning back. He could remember when Gandalf made him choose the Fellowship's course of action. When he'd look back to see that most of his companions, Merry and Pippin especially, looked as cold as he felt…

But why did this feel so strange? He'd been away from the comforts provided by civilization, but he was still outside, on a bed-mat....

Only it certainly wasn't the one he'd been sleeping on as of late... It was _far_ too comfortable. Soft...warm...cushioning and supportive...

No, something had changed...but what?

"Good evening, Mr. Baggins."

The Ring Bearer froze as the pleasant greeting met his ears. It was not a voice he knew: the voice of a man, but one that sounded too young to be Aragorn or Boromir. And those were the only two men in the Fellowship.

"You have no reason to fear, you are in no danger here."

His use of the Common Tongue was strange. He sounded more like an Elf than a Man, but his voice lacked the melodic quality all those with Elven blood possessed. He had a strange accent, too. Not hideously so, but certainly foreign.

When the stranger didn't speak again, Frodo sighed. His host was clearly waiting for a response from him, so the Heir of Bags End forced his eyes open slowly, with more then a little difficulty.

The sky above them was dark, as only night could be, with the stars and moon hidden behind dark clouds. But there was a strange kind of light...Light and warmth radiated from a short distance away, that wasn't what was odd. The night's air was cool, a campfire was a good idea...But one that was..._blue?_

With a frown he turned his aching form in the direction of the warmth, and his eyes widened as they fell upon a campfire that really was just as blue as his eyes. It was like only the heart of the flames resided atop the ground, offering its heat and light, but fueled by nothing apart from its own inner might.

His host was sitting across the fire from him. It was hard for his eyes to make out much of him in the strange lighting, but the stranger _was_ probably young, for his skin was as smooth as any Elves, which was only so upon the youths of Men. He was probably rather tall, if the length of his muscular legs and arms was any indication, though that too was difficult to decipher, as he was sitting down, and a dark cloak hid most of his form from view. But he could make out the youthful, aristocratically carves face, the slight quirk on his lips, which displayed the slight softness that remained in the faces of young men. And he could almost make out his eyes. He couldn't tell if they were green or blue, but he was inclined to think that they were a deep, exotic green, offset by the deceptive sapphire light the campfire offered.

"Bluebell flames."

Frodo blinked, glancing at the flames before returning his gaze to his host, curiosity plain in his eyes.

"If you were wondering," the young man continued, as he reached forward to stir whatever was in the pot that rested atop the flames. "That's what these are called; _bluebell flames_. Portable, waterproof flames that require no fuel, they're named after a flower in my homeland, for their color."

"I am not familiar with the term," the Hobbit offered slowly, glancing around to find that they were the only ones in the campsite, though there was clearly room for more. He didn't think he'd be able to escape though, if he wanted to. The man before him may be young, but he was clearly quite fit, and his youth would only serve as an advantage in such a chase, as would the length of his legs.

"No, you wouldn't be, my homeland is far away from here." He drifted into pleasant silence as he picked up one of the mugs beside the fire and carefully ladled some of the brew he'd been watching into it. After a moment of letting it cool, he took a cautious sip, swirled it around his mouth, swallowed, considered, and then nodded with a satisfactory smile. Setting the cup down beside him, he picked up another one, which he also filled. Once that cup was full he rose to his feet, therein confirming the Hobbits earlier suspicion that he was very tall, and made his way around the fire to the Hobbit. "Here," he offered, kneeling down by the tired Halfling. "It's pepper-up, a warming brew, to fight off cold. It'll help warm up, and make you feel better."

The stranger certainly looked warm. Even in the almost elegant attire that adorned his graceful frame, clothing that looked a lot like what Legolas had taken to wearing for the journey. But this man was not an Elf, and he still looked more than warm enough in the Elven clothes. There was even steam rising from him, which Frodo would later realize, was a bit odd, but at the time, his tired mind had simply registered it as a sign of warmth.

"Thank you," the Hobbit replied politely, while reaching out to accept the proffered drink. He meant to take in the beverage with caution, but after the first tiny sip of the steaming liquid rinsed over his chilled yet dry tongue, such thoughts left his mind, and he drained the small mug in a few short gulps.

He gasped as a warming sensation built up suddenly inside him, reaching from his center outward to the rest of his body, heating it and causing steam to rise from his very skin as he did so. It was over in a few short moments, and the sigh he released at the sensations departure was more then a little disappointed…

"Feel better?" the stranger asked kindly.

Frodo blinked, and took a few moments to answer the question, as he spent a while considering it. But after a minute or so he realized that yes, he did feel better. The remaining shred of coldness that had managed to infest his body was gone. The aches and soreness were reasonably depleted, and he seemed to have somehow gained a whole new source of energy…

"Yes..." the Ring bearer managed slowly, nodding. "Yes, thank you..."

* * *

"What is that?" Pippin asked his companions as they neared a strange light not too far in the distance. He didn't know why Gandalf had decided to lead them this way, he hoped some kind of magic was leading them to his cousin, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to go near that light…

It was almost like the lighting of a campfire, which all of them had become well acquainted with throughout the course of their journey…but it was the wrong _color_. Instead of the warm, golden glow they were used to seeing, it was different hues and shades of _blue_. You would think that that would make it seem cold, but oddly enough, it didn't; it just made it decidedly strange.

"Legolas?" Aragorn inquired softly, showing a barely noticeable amount of anxiety as they awaited the information available due to the Elf's superior vision.

The Woodland Prince didn't answer for several moments, and the near-silent sigh he began with, accompanied by a decided frown, did little to ease their fears. "I cannot tell. It would think that it might be some kind of fire...over salt-soaked or oiled wood, but that is more colorful, not one constant color...and I do not detect any smoke...by sight or scent..."

"Agreed," Aragorn sighed, shaking his head. He glanced over at the Grey Wizard, who seemed to be staring at the light in puzzlement, or something very like it. "Gandalf?"

The wizard gave a noticeable start before turning towards him, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"Are you certain we can not... go around this... anomaly?" The heir of Isilduir requested, "I would very much like to avoid any unnecessary confrontations at this time... particularly when we have no idea of what... it, may be."

After a few moments the grey pilgrim sighed, and shook his head. "From what I can tell, Frodo is very near, possibly right over there," he nodded towards the strange light. "This confrontation may be very necessary."

"For Merlin's sake, Sirius, _stop_ _that!_"

The Azkaban escapee stopped, and turned to stare at his friend blinkingly, "Stop what?"

"Pacing, thank you." Remus replied with a sigh, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the translated text he'd been studying for the better part of that day. "You've been pacing for the last twenty minutes, back and forth, back and forth, across the room," he demonstrated with rapid hand motions with his right hand, before bringing it back to his brow. "And to be quite frank with you, it was driving me mad. So please, cease and desist."

"Oh...Okay..." the heir of the Black family fortune sighed, making his way over to the lounge chair beside the one his friend had taken and sighing. "I'm sorry, Moony... I guess I'm just..."

"Worried?" the werewolf offered at his friend's barely noticeable hesitation.

"Yes... It's just that..." he suddenly lost the fragile control he'd apparently had on his emotions, and said loss brought his right fist slamming down onto the coffee table between them, hard.

The former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor jumped slightly, before turning to look at his black haired friend with a frown, while he set the text he'd been reading aside for later use. "...Padfoot?" he eyed his friend for several moments before he spoke again. "It's about Harry, isn't it?"

"Of course it is!" the other wizard roared, shaking with suppressed emotion. "I-I can't take it, Moony. We should be there! I should be there, helping him... I should have been there when he was taking -- I should have stopped it -- No! I should have been there from the beginning, so it never would have happened! If I hadn't gone after the rat--"

"_Silencio..._"

It took several moments for the hysterical wizard to realize that his rant was no longer audible, and when he did, his mouth snapped shut with an inaudible click, while he sank back into his chair wearily with an inaudible sigh.

After a few deep breaths, he turned dark, questioning eyes upon his living best friend.

Remus offered a soft, reassuring smile while beginning his own, far calmer lecture. "You can't blame yourself for any of that, Sirius. Uh-uh," he shook his head again when the other wizard showed silent signs of obvious disagreement. "Even if you are at fault for some of that, the fault does not rest with you completely, and blaming yourself doesn't help at all." He shook his head again, before flicking his wand at his friend again and releasing him from the silencing spell with, "_Finite Incantatum._"

"I..." Sirius paused, clearly thinking over what he was about to say, before shaking his head a few moments later. "I guess you're right..." he jumped slightly as they heard a horn sound in the distance."Suppertime? Already?"

"I suppose so," Remus confirmed with a shrug as he rose to his feet, sending the text he'd been reading one last, wistful look, before making his way to the door, his friend only a few steps behind him.

The area the wizards had come to use for general dining purposes wasn't far away. A talan that was fairly close to all of the talans they were staying in; set up for relaxation and conversation in some of the rooms, while the main one was obviously a fairly informal dining hall.

They were, however, the last to arrive. Entering just in time to join everyone else in sitting down around the table as the Elven servants that the Lord and Lady had assigned to them entered, bearing large silver trays, laden with various Elven dishes.

Dumbledore smiled as he looked around at all of them, before turning his attention the Elf that had stopped by his side, as she had done many nights, to ask him to taste the wine, to be sure it was fit to be served, though there had never been anything wrong with it. And once again, of course, the headmaster smiled as he nodded approval of the first sip. "Delightful, my dear, thank you."

The Elf girl bowed slightly, before making her rounds of the table, pouring wine into every goblet. Thankfully, to the adults at least, she'd learned by now that the children were not permitted to drink alcohol. This meant that they were not to be served wine. She didn't have to worry about it now though, as the staff had obviously taken to only putting out goblets for the adults, so she simply filled all of the goblets that were there, which the adults were in possession of.

Everyone began eating almost as soon as their meal was placed in front of them. No one spoke, beyond requesting various dishes or spices. And it wasn't until their Elven assistants had left that that changed.

"Is something wrong, Molly?"

The redheaded witch looked up in surprise, reddening slightly as the Headmaster's question brought the focus of the entire table to her. "Wh-What? N-No, of course not--" she stopped, then after a moment's pause, shook her head and began again with a sigh. "Yes, yes... I'm afraid I'm a bit worried... for Harry."

"I believe we all are," Dumbledore offered in reply, while bringing his knife down on his venison, to slice it away from the whole piece he'd taken and pop the smaller portion into his mouth.

"Yes, well, it... It just isn't _right_, Albus!" Mrs. Weasley shook her head, setting her serving utensils down as she watched him for a more animated response, any response. "He's so _young_! I wouldn't let _any_ of my boys go off like that--"

"_Young?_" Draco Malfoy interrupted, ignoring the outraged and semi-venomous looks most of the other redheads in the room sent him. "How exactly is Potter young?"

"He's only--"

"Tell me, Mrs. Weasley," he offered, his tone almost courteous. "Say someone in their... early twenties, found some way to stop aging, like the Elixir of Life, or something of the sort, and began taking in their early twenties. A century later, they'd still look like they were in their early twenties, but would you still treat them as though they were?"

"No, of course n..." The Weasley matriarch stopped, blinking in apparent confusion before realization spread across her face again. "That's right...I-I'd forgotten."

"I think most of you, if not all of you, did." Draco said looking around. "Potter is almost over two thousand years old. He's been _married_ for over a millennia, for Merlin's sake! And he may be a widower. I think it's safe to say that he's a grown boy, and he can take care of himself, don't you?"

No one replied. And they remained silent, trapped within their own thoughts until supper ended, some befuddled, others confused, others pained, while still others were mixtures of all three. Each left once they'd finished their supper, not bothering to bid the others a good night as they continued thinking.

* * *

'**_Our forces are ready?_**'

"Yes, Sauron. They have been ready for some time. Perhaps now might be the opportune time to send them out?" Voldemort inquired, a barely noticeable trace of sarcasm in his voice even as he replied to a voice that echoed inside his head from...nowhere.

'**_No... Now is not the time._**' The age-old evil returned, clearly ignoring the other's emotions in favor of the words his 'ally' spoke. '**_You must go to Isengard..._**'

"What?"

'**_Go to Isengard... Saruman will be waiting for you... In the meantime, send out a small force of your own fighters, to retrieve the RING... The one that bears it is somewhere near the Red Horn Mountain..._**'

"But--"

'**_GO! To Isengard! And MY RING! NOW!_**' the fallen Maiar ordered, sending waves of pain-inducing power through the wizard's brain.

"A-As you w-wish," the Heir of Slytherin yielded upon finding that his mental shields and abilities were nowhere near strong enough to keep the angered phantom at bay. As soon as he was released though, he drew himself up; leaving the room without bowing to the empty throne he'd been meaning to claim for his own a short time before. "But as soon as I have this Ring, _we_ will not be giving out orders..."

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Frodo frowned as he glanced over at his host again. After several moments though, the reason he recognized the other suddenly became clear to him. "Wait! Aren't you..." the Hobbit shook his head, frowning once more. "No. That's impossible..."

"What is?"

"Begging your pardon...sir, but you look an awful lot like the Man whose portrait was placed in the Hobbiton Town Hall a long time ago...for protecting the Shire from Orcs..."

"Oh yes, that...Took them an awful long to sketch it. I didn't bother staying around to wait for them to finish painting it.… It came out well, though? There's a likeness?"

"Yes--Wait..." Frodo shook his head again, "That's impossible... That'd make you... Over a thousand years old!"

"It would, wouldn't it?"

"So you're not a Man?" the Ring bearer clarified.

"No, I'm a Wizard...Though not the kind you know of. I've practiced some of the Istari arts, but they certainly aren't my specialty." Harry offered a kind smile, "The Elves know me as Elerossë Tinehtelë, and I'm somewhat of a paradox really, still that's worked to our advantage so far... My birth name's Harry, but I answer to either one."

"Elerossë or Harry?"

Harry nodded, but his attention was focused on the far side of the camp, or rather, past it, in the woods beyond. "Yes...And I do believe your companions have managed to find us..."

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**_End Chapter 15._**

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**Translations:**

Quentele - Talking

Man ta? - What is it?

Laume - No, of course not

Uma - Yes

Heru nin - My lord

Nai Vala - By the Valar

Ada - Father

Talans - Elven tree houses...kind of

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**Response to Reviews****: **

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**Hoshi-tachi** - LOL, I know that feeling. I'd say sorry...but the chapters will be around to read, and you can review whenever you want.

...Just a little... Good point.

LOL...Yes, big chance.

We'll see the actual meeting next time though.

No, Mithrandir does not know Harry himself, but he does know about Harry... He found out about him, but Harry was traveling so much that they never met, and he was gone after a few millennia... He undoubtedly would have made a point of meeting him, if he'd had the chance. But Gandalf was known for disappearing and reappearing all the time. He's hard to contact. And Harry's particular existence is one of the Elves most closely guarded secrets... The Elves that live in the Galadhrim know, some of Elrond's inner circle and his family, Legolas's father and a few of his advisors know to, but not Legolas himself.

Sayonara! Gomen nasai, for the lateness.

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**Nimohtar** - Glad to hear it.

LOL, OK, OK, continuing... Hmm, who would I pair? ... You know, I'm really not sure? Your right, Harry's out of the question...So whom do you think?

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**Clouded** **Nines** - LOL, it is, isn't it? ...Right now there's obviously some problems, but it should get better... or, technically, worse, since they're the bad guys...

Yeah, lol, sorry about that...Like I said, that was supposed to be in this chapter, but I honestly got sick of trying to write that scene...I'm still working on it though, and the next chapter should be out MUCH sooner, since I'm out of school and whatnot...  
Thank you, glad you think so!

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**Nyoko** - LOL, that's okay. I'm glad you like it.

No, Harry will be meeting the Fellowship in the next chapter, I promise...He was _supposed_ to meet them in this chapter, but the stupid scene wouldn't cooperate!

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**Lunawolf** - Thank you.

Yes, you were partially right, obviously.

Thank you, I'm particularly proud of that part of the last chapter...Although it was a bit long. And yes, I like him too...

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**Musicstarlover** - LOL...OK, so the question was a bit stupid.

But it got quite a few responses.

Chocolate? Looks around Where chocolate?

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**Laen** - Thanx...

Umm...maybe...

LOL, yes that should be fun...and it's kind of inevitable... I mean, I suppose Draco could stay hidden in Lothlórien the whole time, but what fun would that be?

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**Angelwings6117** - Thank you.

Yes, character development is important, and it kind of needed to be done.

Nope, Moria's still coming though...And we'll see what fate holds in store for Gandalf...

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**Rogue1615** - Hmm...I think that's a uniquely Elven ability...Though Harry has learned some, and I think his magic could probably make up for the genetic differences...

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**Franky** - LOL, sorry. I really was going to have them meet up in this chapter...But that didn't work out…. Next chapter, I promise.

Hmm...That's kind of hard to determine, different magic's and all. Gandalf definitely has more experience and ability with the Istari stuff, but like I've said before, that doesn't really focus around combat at all...I mean, yes, as Gandalf and Saruman demonstrated, they can fight, but it's not quite the same thing...

Not answering all of those... but remember the book that Hermione sent him in the beginning? A book that had all of the information in Hogwarts' library in it? He had that. And centuries to study it...

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**Small** **fry** - Thank you.

LOL, yes...next chapter, promise...

Yup, yup, Draco's scene was a fave of mine...some parts were hard, but all in all it fit together pretty well...

Hmm, you think so? I guess... Though you really can't expect Harry to just 'get over' the loss of his soul mate...ever. So Violet will still come up a lot... I'm sorry if that bothers you...

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**Metropolis**-**Rising** - Thanx. Sigh Yes...I hate errors like that...sorry...

Yeah, I like Violet too...but I didn't want the story to focus around their relationship too much...

LOL, yes, that should be fun.

Thank you.

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**SithelfJen** - Flinches I honestly didn't mean it like that...I know that can be terrible, but I can see why it happens...It can be discouraging to post something and not receive many responses...I know, some of my fics aren't even in the double-digits review-wise. Sorry.****

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**Liath** - LOL, OK...Yes, pop ups can be annoying, I admit.  
Wandering's OK...Especially where cute little children are concern.

Sorry if this chapter was disappointing...A lot just had to get done, and I wanted Harry and the twins to meet the Fellowship in this chapter...But it really wasn't working out...Sorry pouts  
Too much, LOL, not at all... Talk as much as you like!

But, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!   
See? You're not last here, you're first...because you were first to begin with... Bye!

**Jeni** **Black** - LOL, thanx...

That's cool. I have a few friends who are almost that close...One lives right down the street, so we've been friends for ages...

Yeah, they are adorable, aren't they? Though I feel a little bad for the parents. They just made it through the terrible two stage a little while ago, while having to worry about a baby at the same time, and now they're going into it again. Best of luck to them!

And thank you. Teel really is SO sweet...I got to feed her last weekend! (Part of the reason I didn't update this week -- I spent all of Sunday late morning and afternoon watching her).  
John Ruel? Really? Weird...

Like I told Liath...and almost every other reviewer...they were going to meet up in this chapter...but that didn't work out, sorry...the next chapter should be ready MUCH sooner...

Bye!

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**The Great Sarini** - Yeah, there are a lot of fics like that, aren't there? I find them incredibly annoying...Especially since no one _finishes_ them. They get up to an important part in the LotRs plotline and stop, because they didn't bother figuring out how the HP crew, or ever just Harry would fit it...

Anyway, I'm glad you like it. :-)

And sorry about the wait. :-(

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**Raven** - LOL... Yes, this does save us a lot of trouble, doesn't it?

Thank you, glad to hear it.

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**Shirley** - I'm glad you like the plot line...

And I am sorry if the Elvish bothers you so much, but I happen to be immensely fond of it...It holds my interest in writing the story when the plot line itself can't.  
Yes, Elves speak Common...But so do a lot of people from foreign countries, and they don't just forget they're native languages simply because others don't know or use it.

No, Harry wouldn't have known any Elvish there, but he probably would have been too traumatized to respond to English/Common anyway, and Elvish is a semi-magical language in its own right...So that's why Galadriel would use it. To soothe Harry's fears before trying to explain things to him...

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**GShans** - Thank you, glad to hear it. 

LOL, don't worry. Harry will be meeting up with the Fellowship in the next chapter.

Thanx again, and I'm sorry if this chapter was a bit of a let down...the next one should be better, and it will be out sooner too.

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**Celebwen** **Telcontar** - My name's Jessica...At school, there are over a dozen other Jessica's. In 4th grade, there were six of us all together. The teacher had to actually give some of us numbers. My OC (original character) Elrohir has the same name as Elrond's son, but they are not one and the same...which should have been pretty obvious a while back.

Yes, cousins, VERY VERY VERY far off...so much so that most would say they're not cousins... Even Isildur would be too far down the line to be directly connected to Arwen.

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**Insanechildfanfic** - Thank you... No problem.… I know all about computer problems, _believe_ me... It's one of the reasons this took so long...

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**Lindiel** **Eryn** - Glad to hear it.

Shrugs Some parts need to be...

I know, I know...I already said that I'd be ignoring the timeline stuff... If you watch the extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring, Bilbo says that it starts in the year 3434, and Frodo says in Return of the King that the whole series was a little over a year long (13 months). Sorry for the confusion that may cause...But that's why I'm ignoring time lines now...I almost stopped writing this fic a few months ago because of how much the timelines were confusing me.

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**Dadaiiro** - Yup, they've definitely caught up...

Harry can apparate, but only so far, with so many people. And it's really not safe to Apparate to a place he doesn't know well... Those are semi-cannon rules that I'm sticking to.

...Moony's transformation should be soon.… And yes, Padfoot should be interesting.

Sorry, you'll have to wait and see. :-P

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**Raymomofo** - Thank you, I'm glad you think so. And I appreciate the compliment.

The next update should be sooner, sorry about the wait and the semi-lack of content. :-(

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**Laughing** **Cat** - Glad you think so

LOL, of course.

Sorry, I haven't read the books in...Well, _years_, so I'm a little iffy on some of it... It's just that I happen to like it. They're so pretty! Pouts And I like blonde-Legolas.   
Like I said, I read the books a LONG time ago...but most of the information in the story is based on LOTS of research. Hours and hours of it... I have half a dozen books _about_ LotRs and you wouldn't believe some of the sites I've found online, they're incredible.

Thanks!

Sorry if this chapter was a bit of let down, the next one will be out _much_ sooner.

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**Christiane** - Wow, glad to hear it. Thanks for the compliments.   
LOL, yes, Elvish is hard to gage.

You're right, the movies have done a good job with creating the misconception... I haven't read the books in a long time, so I don't remember everything... but I happen to like the blonde Elves, especially Legolas...Orlando Bloom's Legolas is just too perfect to change. pouts  
That's the other part of the problem. Now almost _everyone_ who writes LotRs fan fiction prefers the movies and/or ignores the books completely... It's a fanon thing, there isn't really much to do about it. Few people mention it at all, and most people don't read the AN's anyway, so a lot of people are ignorant.

I don't want to ignore the books, but I honestly prefer the blonde Elves.

Don't worry about it. I like long reviews.

Sorry if this is disappointing. :-(

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**Veggie's** **Brat** - LOL, OK... I'm actually making some progress with Fate & Destiny.

Just trying running a search for "Elvish" online, that's what I did.

There are _dozens_ of sites out there.

For information on LotRs in general, I definitely have to recommend

Lord of the Rings Fanatics Library MsoNormal>It's not done yet, but there's a lot there anyway. (And they have quite a few links to other sites, including ones with Elvish)

For help with Elvish names, go to:

Chris Wetherell's Elvish Name Generator MsoNormal>One Elvish site that's pretty good is: Lothlórien (http:lothlorien.freewebsitehosting.com)

There are MANY others though. It can take a bit of work to find them, but that just makes you appreciate them all the more.

What's your story about, anyway? Have you started it? Posted anything? Or is it still in the outlining stage?

Well, anyway, thank you. And good luck with your story!

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**Paul** - Yes, I like her to... We'll see.

Wow, thanx, I'm glad you think so.

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**Lina** **Thanatos** - Run a search online. Google's pretty good. Like I told VB, there are dozens, maybe even hundred of sites, you just have to look.

I will recommend these three though:

1. Lord of the Rings Fanatics Library General info, very good... time lines can be confusing though...Especially since it's not quite done. Lot of good links too though.

2. Chris Wetherell's Elvish Name Generator Names

3. Lothlórien  Elvish

Best of luck!

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**Thanks to****:**

**Athenakitty**

**Starlight** **Dreams******

**DeFox******

**Heather**-**Hezzer**-**and**-**Honaluki******

**Maxennce******

**Jenelf******

**The angelic vampire******

**HAZZAGRIFF******

**Kevin**-**McKay******

**Tara**-**Yo** - Next chapter****

**Maethoriell Uini Tawar******

**Shawn** **Pickett******

**Fate******

**Star** **estrella******

**The Lady Reaper of the Shadows******

**Fiery** **Pheonix******

**Blahblah104 **- Yes, thanx

**Hi******

**UnoeWho** - LOL, nice name

**Tezbuzz******

**GinnyPotter5**

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**AN****: Wow guys, 50 reviews, well done... I was kind of asking for that last time, when I asked if I should continue... It's just that otherwise a lot of people seemed to read, but not bother reviewing. A LOT of people did that anyway though. **

**Honestly, I put _hours_, sometimes even _days_, of my time into writing these chapters. Is 5, 10 minutes in response too much to ask?**

**As a word of warning though... Sometimes you have to guilt trip me into writing. And honestly, the only way you can do that is by reviewing. If around 50 or more people review (I do notice when 1 person reviews more then once, doesn't work, sorry) then I feel guilty for not posting. If not...Well I might not, so I might not bother spending that much time with the story... I might move on to a different story. I've left quite a few hanging. I really should update some of those. The reason this one _isn't_ hanging is because so many people seem to like it. That's all. If the reviewing drops off, I'll just go to another fic for awhile. Just thought you should be aware of that.**

**I hope this chapter wasn't a let down... It was supposed to be longer, but I'm having some trouble with the Fellowship part...And I really wanted to get this out. It's sort of filler, but the next chapter should be out soon.**

**REVIEW, please? **

**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	17. Chapter 16: Mae Govannen

**

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Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**There and Back Again**

**_Chapter 16: Mae Govannen_****__**

By Jess S

**_Woodlands in the foothills of Caradhas _**

"Shall we continue then?" Boromir inquired softly, looking around at his companions. All of whom were equally startled when a reply came from above them.

"Yes, please do, this is rather dull." He was undoubtedly an Elf, for he spoke the common tongue with no less eloquence then the Woodland Prince that accompanied them, and his voice had the same musical qualities all of the Eldar seemed to possess.

He was however, apparently well hidden, as even Legolas couldn't find him when he aimed one of his arrows skyward, carefully notched, the string pulled back just enough for him to be able to complete the gesture and release the arrow easily without straining himself as he looked for a target. After looking around the treetops for a moment, Legolas shook his head to the others, before sending an inquiry to the stranger, who's voice sounded oddly familiar to him, but in a way that he could not at present place anymore then he place its owner. "Man na le, mellon?" {Who are you, friend?}

"Er mellon," {A friend,} the stranger replied smoothly, his voice vaguely sarcastic.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves," Gimli snorted, almost growling the words as he glared skyward, ignoring his Elven companion's glare, which was echoed by most of the Fellowship as he made his demand. "Speak words we can all understand!"

"Very well, Master-Dwarf, if the common tongue is more to your taste then we shall use it." Their visitor continued with apparently no difficulty, "As I told Prince Legolas a moment ago, I am a friend, and to repeat my request of a few moments earlier, your present location is really rather boring, you should go forward. At least that might be interesting."

"Why are you here...friend?" Gandalf the Grey inquired as he looked around, a faint frown settling around his eyes.

"Questions of that nature are not mine to answer; they really belong to my lord, who awaits you in the clearing, along with your fellowship's most important member."

"Frodo?" Sam demanded, looking towards the clearing with a clear desire to hurry to it, before restraining himself and looking towards the trees once more.

"The Ring bearer would be the Fellowship of the Ring's most important member, I would think."

All of said Fellowship's members froze at the realization that the conversationalist was completely aware of their purpose, and the burden that Frodo bore.

Apparently taking note of their discomfort, the Elf laughed, "Oh come now, if we meant any ill will towards the Ring bearer, do you really think you'd still be standing? You've yet to locate me."

"If you attacked us, we would know where you were," Gimli told him, though the discomfort he noticed on the Prince of Mirkwood's face clearly contradicted his statement.

The sharp twang of a bow being fired echoed around them even as its…projectiles were suddenly buried far too close to him for the Dwarf's comfort. One had landed in the tree he was standing next to, a scant inch in front of his face. The other skimmed right by his shoulder as it came down from the heavens, to wound the ground right next to his right foot, after clearly following a path that said he was well within the archer's range.

After a few moments of tense silence, the stranger continued. "Where am I then, Master Dwarf? For surely you must know?"

"There's more then once of you," the Dwarf growled, even as and the others tried to find their would-be attackers based on the paths the arrows may have followed.

"Perhaps, but that was always a possibility, wasn't it? After all, even the greatest of warriors is rarely foolish enough to spend all his time in the wild, unaccompanied by friends or allies." Before any of the Fellowship could comment on that, he continued. "Really though, you must have many questions, which won't be answered here. The only place you might find answers is in that clearing up ahead...within which the treetops can offer us little advantage any how, so the prospect should be that much more appealing. Along with the fact that your companion awaits you their, with our leader."

Another few moments silence ensued, then the Grey Wizard made the decision for them with a nod, "It seems we have little choice," he offered, before moving forward, his staff taking the appearance of a weapon now as he held it in a manner that clearly meant it could be used as such, rather then as the walking stick it had been for much of their journey.

Reluctantly, the rest of the Fellowship followed, holding their own weapons in a similar manner, so that whatever awaited them in the clearing they were headed towards would not take them with the advantage of surprise.

As they neared the clearing, they could see that the blue flame really was set up as a campfire, though it didn't off any form of smoke or aroma, as Legolas had noted a short time before. One on the pair sitting across from the other was familiar to them, for he had been their companion for many weeks of travel. The other, who was seat on the other side of the fire, facing the Halfling, wasn't at all familiar to him.

But as they drew nearer, they could see that his attire was very similar to Legolas's, certainly of Elven making; elegant, yet practical and secure. They couldn't really tell from a difference, but he didn't seem to be at all phased by his surroundings, nor did he seem to be a threat to Frodo, who was conversing openly with him.

A few steps later though it became clear that this _was_ a warrior, one who had noted their presence. For he rose to his feet and turned slightly, so as to be facing both them and Frodo at the same time, even as the Ring bearer himself turned in their direction, obviously looking for them.

To his credit, Gandalf did not halt again, instead choosing to move forward at a steady, careful pace, one that gave him and the others time to watch their surroundings, but still let Frodo watch their approach. That was all they could offer their recently found member for consolation, though, as they approached the encampment, for their eyes needed to remain focused on the possible threat - the being that stood across from them.

The nearer they came though, the less certain they were of that menace; for the stranger that watched them was no elf, and yet he appeared quite young. His hair was the same midnight shade that ravens were so famed for; his skin was pale for a Man, and bore an illuminating quality similar to that of the Elves, but not quite.

As they slowly entered the clearing, their guard only slightly lowered, they became fully aware of another unusual quality the 'youth' before them possessed. His eyes were unlike any they'd ever seen before, two pools of shimmering, radiant, emerald-green light that had attained a certain depth that only the wisdom gained by long life and experience could learn.

Had they noticed this earlier, their guard might have been harder as those eyes scanned them, measured them. They were tense though, and that was noted, as the gentleness of his still youthful tone did show. "Come," he gestured to the makeshift seats that stumps, large rocks and logs offered around the blue fire, "join us."

"Why should we, stranger?" Gimli demanded, before any of the others could move, surprising his companions only slightly by the mistrust in his voice.

It didn't seem to offend their peculiar host though, as those strange eyes focused on him. "Why should you not?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in a manner that seemed distinctly Elvish, and only served to irritate the Dwarf further. "You have traveled hard the last few days, even harder over the course of this day. And the days ahead of you shall not be any shorter. Why should you not partake of rest when it is offered?"

"And what sorcery is that?" Boromir inquired, raising his sword slightly to point at the blue flames that continued to flicker merrily in the center of the camp, offering light and warmth as any flame would, regardless of their strange appearance and the fact that they hovered a few inches off the ground by themselves naturally, with no fuel to burn in order to provide said products. "I find myself ill at ease around most magicks..."

"And yet you come from the White City, do you not, Boromir, son of Steward Denethor?" the stranger offered pleasantly, "It is true that much of the magic there is hidden, but you would find it if you looked closely enough."

"Aren't you at all bothered by the fact that you're severely outnumbered here?" Sam demanded, aggravation clear in his voice as he looked at his friend and master's apparent captor.

His reply was a slight headshake, accompanied by a shrug. "Not really, no." Then he sighed, looking them over again. "We aren't going to make any progress like this," he murmured, almost to himself, before raising his right hand.

The members of the Fellowship tensed, stepping back slightly, but relaxed when they saw that his hand was empty. Their relief was rather short lived though, as they heard an alien word leave his tongue.

"_Expelliarmus_," he said clearly, his tone very near commanding as he waved his hand in their direction before opening in time to catch Gandalf's staff as it was ripped from its owners grasp only to rush to his hand. He then quickly raised his left hand, and gestured again as all the other weapons the Fellowship possessed came to him. He waived his hand again, murmuring another word, "_abeo-aliquantulum_," and their weapons became smaller, before floating into a bag that he'd taken from somewhere on his person, only to return it there once the weapons were tied inside. The only thing that hadn't gone into the bad was Gandalf's staff, which had shrunk to a much smaller form, small enough for him to pluck it out of the air and conceal it somehow up his sleeve. "Now, perhaps you will consider talking civilly?"

* * *

**_The Fortress-Tower of Barad-dûr, Mordor _**

"Are you certain that this is... wise, my lord?"

"No, Lucius, I am not," the Dark Lord growled, shaking his head, "but as we still know very little of this land, we cannot ignore what aid our allies offer us, no matter how uncouth offer may be, and we would be fools if we ignored the chance to meet another ally."

"Of course, my lord," the fair-haired wizard agreed immediately bowing slightly as he continued to follow his lord. He did not walk beside him, for that would be disrespectful to Salazar Slytherin's Heir, which was why he kept a distance of two steps between them at all times, much as many other wizards did for him, though very few did so out of respect rather then fear. "So we are leaving for another fortress, then? With the...Uruk-hai to accompany us?"

"One of the creatures, as a guide, yes," Voldemort nodded, disgust clear in his voice as they continued on their way down the dark hallway, towards the main courtyard, where their guide awaited them. "The others will be heading to the northwest, in search of...something. We will be heading north-west, to Isengard, home to Saruman, a powerful wizard of this world."

"A useful ally," the Death Eater commented.

"Indeed..."

"My Lord..." the wizards turn to see one of the disgusting creatures that dwelt in this dark land bowing deeply."The Eye bids you leave now...the paths are clear."

"Very well," the Dark Lord nodded once again, in the direction of the more powerful figure behind the orc, their Uruk-hai guide. "Lead the way."

* * *

**_Lothlórien _**

"Where's he going?" Ron asked as the Lady of Lothlórien finished her accounts of a recent Sight. This wasn't like the Divination that Sibyl Trelawney and others of their world practiced. Even Hermione and Professor McGonagall took the Lady's words seriously; probably because it didn't _feel_ the same...it was just..._different_. And something made them sure that she spoke true...

"I do not know for certain, there are still many possible futures, many shadows," Galadriel shook her head, offering the wizards a tired smile, "but I can think of only two destinations for such a force, Nan Curunír, the valley in which Saruman resides, or Dol Guldur, Sauron's stronghold in the southwestern reaches of Mirkwood." She cocked her head to the side slightly, as if in though, and the slightly distant look in her eyes, matched by the distance of her voice and tone, echoed the expression, "Isengard is more likely... The Ring Lord has had centuries to strengthen Dol Guldur...the Ring of Isengard is still vulnerable, no matter how firmly he has Saruman within his grasp..." her eyes cleared, before drifting over them with veteran study.

"So what are we going to do about?" Sirius asked, crushing the small amount to nervousness he, like most of the others, had felt as they watched the Lady's powers work.

The Elves of Lothlórien had told them the stories behind the Rings of Power, and Galadriel had explained how her own Ring gave her the power to protect the Golden Wood magically, to see far beyond it, through time and space, and into minds. The Lady didn't have complete control of it though, and she didn't _dare_ attempt to master it completely. She could only afford to use it sparingly, and be thankful for what that offered her. Otherwise, she could come to harm at the will of the One Ring's Master... The Ring Lord, Sauron

"Nothing."

"_What?!_" Several of the witches and wizards shouted, while most of the others simply looked on in palpable confusion.

"There is nothing any of you can do about him for the time being... It will take weeks to reach either destination, and many months will pass before they really become a threat. There is no reason to risk you now, when you could be preparing for what's to come." Celeborn told them, his tone firm and his visage stern.

"I am sure the Lord and Lady only have our best interests at heart," Dumbledore stepped in before any of the others could object. "And they do have a point..." he looked around. "We are not yet ready for this... war, as much as we would like to be. We must continue to train, prepare, and help where we can, learn what we can, while we can."

Galadriel nodded, offering a gentle smile. "Quite right... The time for open battle will come, but it has not arrived yet." She looked out towards the darkening sky. "You should take some rest. You've been working hard these past few days. A few extra hours of sleep could only do you all good."

"What about you? And the others?" Hermione inquired, hurriedly stifling a yawn.

"Elves do not need sleep," the Lady told them, her gentle smile still in place, and still genuine. "At least, not as much as you do."

"Is--" Ron yawned, "--excuse me, is that why Harry doesn't sleep much anymore?"

"He adjusted to our sleeping pattern over time, yes," Celeborn nodded, "over the many centuries he walked through and lived in our world."

Dumbledore looked around, smiling slightly as he watched the others valiantly fight the weariness that was spreading through all of them. "I do believe you are right," he said, offering the Lord and Lady a pleasant smile, his tired eyes twinkling merrily as he rose to his feet, stretching. "I myself could certainly use a good nights rest." He bowed slightly towards the Elves, as had become his mostly 'unnecessary' custom.

He didn't look back when he went through the door. Didn't need to, to know that the others were following his example, obeying the Lord and Lady's request.

'_Remus,_' Galadriel called to the werewolf telepathically as he rose to follow the others. '_Please remain here, for a few moments..._'

The wizard looked slightly startled as met her gaze, but nodded nonetheless. He waited until the others were some distance away, before inquiring. "My Lady? My Lord?"

"The full moon is only a few days away." Galadriel told him, the critical eyes of a sorceress and healer scanning his weakening form, plagued by the symptoms of the coming event.

"I know..." he replied with a sigh, not needing to look outside to know that moon was very nearly full, its stage of waxing almost complete. "Snape's already started to make the wolfsbane potion..."

"That won't be necessary. Very thoughtful, to be sure. But unnecessary."

"How...?"

"You will see," Galadriel told him, making her way over to him after accepting the tray her husband had taken from one of the shelves in the corner, where it had been sitting all day. She set it on the dining table, taking the seat next to him before turning the goblet right side up, and began the process.

First she half-filled the goblet with some of the cool, sparkling water that Celeborn had brought over in a pitcher, from the place one of the maids who'd filled it at the fountain in her grove, had placed it.

"Neen..." she chanted, her melodious voice just barely a whisper. "Anna o Ulmos, Osse ar Uinen, vene o kuile, kolindo o estel..."

After setting the water pitcher down, she picked up the small, golden bottle on the tray, and removed the cork, pouring a drop of the thick, black potion in. A few moments later, the liquid with the goblet was entirely black, like the midnight sky.

"Mori... luume o titta kala, men ilya loo mi fuine..."

Then, after re-topping the golden bottle, she took the top off of a small, crystal case, and took some of the tiny, silver crystals within out, sprinkling them into the goblet. Now the potion really looked like the midnight sky... on a moonless night.

"Silme... Anna o Varda an I'Palurin, ya man anta Estanesse mere ana laise, ar veela palurin Vali anta..."

Here the Lady paused once more, waiting for several moments before selecting a crystal jar off of the tray, removing the top, and taking a handful of it contents to sprinkle into the potion. They were seeds, silvery-white seeds about the size of her smallest fingernail, the seeds to the fragrant Lissuin that they made use of in so many of their most sacred ceremonies.

The seeds hit the surface of the potion and passed through without causing any splashes at all, beneath the surface they seemed to explode, sending little bubbles of air up. When the bubbles stopped, and the ripples they'd created dissipated, a glimmering circle of light appeared in the center, a diminutive facsimile of the full moon.

Remus gasped, taking a step back as he stared at what he feared above all else with wide eyes...

"Isil... Varya ne pilindi o Tilion, I'Telperion, I'telwa loote o I'Telpina Lairelosse o Valar, men mi tinda vene o Tilion ve eä mauya, horta tere menel oiale mori, ve lindoorea o kala aro estel mi I'Palurin nyelle..."

"It is only an illusion," Celeborn assured him, placing a supportive hand on the werewolf's shoulder as his wife continued to work.

The next, and as it were, last ingredient the Elven Lady added was a fine, multi-colored powder that seemed to catch all the light around it before sending it back, in different colored sparkles.

"Uuvea Vala," Galadriel called, raising the goblet up before her, towards the waxing moon. "Tenmen merne ar mauya yana tana kare. I'telwa loote ú-mere na kaure ne voronda o I'kala, anta hon uma notana kaure ta. Fainu-hon osina harwe!"

Thunder rumbled outside, though the sky was still clear. A shaft of moonlight came in through the window, focusing on the Elf Queen and the goblet she held.

The Lady paused again, sharing a look with her husband before continuing. Only this time, Celeborn joined her in prayer.

Remus had learned some Elvish in the last few days here, just like the others, but certainly not enough to follow the chanting royalty. But the words were far too solemn for them to be anything but a prayer, a request for aid from the Valar the people of this world worshipped.

"Anta si merne, cen I'hosse o mane mi luurea luu..." the Elves continued, watching potion. "Mauya ya tana kare--"

They stopped suddenly when Galadriel's Ring began to glow brightly, and a moment later, the room was engulfed in the light that it admitted. But only for a moment, for then it died down quickly, and Galadriel lowered the goblet slightly as the moonlight dissipated, indicating that Tilion was no longer focusing on them.

"Thus it is willed," the Lady of Lorien, the Lady of Light murmured, making her way over to the werewolf. "So mote it be..."

When the Elf stopped in front of him, offering the goblet, Remus could only stare for several moments, eyeing the goblet, which now seemed to be filled with steaming, crystal clear water, uncertainly.

"Dink this, Elu."

Remus blinked, shaking his head to clear it, before reaching up to take the silver goblet with both, trembling hands. He started at it again, but this time managed to pull himself out of it much more quickly, and brought the goblet up to his lips to drain its contents.

Galadriel accepted the goblet with a smile, nodding to his slightly dazed expression. "Now it would be a good idea for you to head to bed, young one. Sleep well."

The werewolf nodded again, still slightly dazed.

The royal pair watched him go, and Celeborn turned to his wife, offering a slightly puzzled smile as he took her hand. "I did not expect that."

"That Nenya would be called upon?" Galadriel inquired, before nodding slightly. "I didn't either... But it does make some semblance of sense." She glanced down at the glitter Ring of Power on her finger, before emitting a soft sigh. "At least it proves some good can still come of its creation..."

* * *

****

**_Back at campfire _**

"Now really, we're not going to get anything done simply standing around like this, so please do have a seat..." Seeing that the Fellowship clearly wasn't going to move anytime soon, Harry shook his head before turning his back on them and walking back to his seat, across the fire from Frodo. "Forgive me," he offered a kind smile, "what were we talking about earlier?"

Frodo blinked at him, "Wh-What? Ar-Aren't you going to...to…" he nodded towards the Fellowship, which Harry still had his back to and clearly wasn't concerned by.

The wizard shook his head, offering another soft sigh, "I've found that trying to reason with paranoia is a nearly impossible task, so it's really a better idea to wait for them to overcome it on their own."

"And you that you have a group with some of the best warriors on Middle Earth behind you?"

"They may be among the best, but so are my companions and I, and the members of the Fellowship are currently unarmed... We were talking about my exploits at the Shire some time back, were we not?"

"Yes," the Hobbit nodded, "There's a portrait of you in the Town Hall, in Hobbiton... it bears a very close resemblance, though some of the paint has faded over time..."

"But the story behind it has remained clear?" the wizard guessed, smiling slightly as the Hobbit nodded eagerly... though he might not like fame too much, it was good to see a smile on the face of one who bore such a heavy burden...

"Yes... you saved the Shire when it was attacked by Orcs...centuries ago..." Frodo frowned in thought before nodding slightly towards Harry, though he clearly was referring to the group behind him as well. "Is that how you did it without aid? Magic?"

"Partially," Harry continued to smile gently while his mind turned back to that event of several centuries past. "I do use my magic in combat quite often, but the Elves of Lothlórien made sure that I was very well trained in the arts of war as well... And I did spend a few centuries in Mordor, hunting its populace."

Frodo's eyes widened, "You _did?_ Why?"

Harry shrugged, "It seemed like a good idea at the time... And it made me a legend to the Forces of Darkness, something to be feared above all else." He shook his head, "Fear is a powerful thing...a powerful ally...a powerful weapon if used wisely. For more then a century I hunted the Orcs in their own land, I kept the swell of their numbers down, and their forces concentrated on defending their homeland... I kept the rest of Middle Earth safe."

The Hobbit shook his head, "Well...yes, but... Wasn't it dangerous...? Wasn't it lonely?"

"Of course..." the wizard continued, nodding slightly as his eyes became distant, reminiscent. "Every day was a risk of death, however unlikely. Every day and every night was lonely... but I knew that every Orc, every Troll, every Warg that fell at my hand, was one less threat to my home, to those that I love..." he shook his, clearing it, before looking over at the Ring bearer, his eyes serious. "Those are among the few things that are truly worth fighting for, after all..."

Both were quiet for several moments, Frodo wondering both at the wizard's words, and how much his companions had heard as they slowly kept closer. He wasn't sure what to do as he watched Legolas sneak up, ahead of the others, on the apparently unsuspecting wizard. On one hand, the members of the Fellowship had quickly become trusted friends, and all had sword to protect him. On the other, Harry had saved his people, saved his life, and offered him wisdom, a quiet refuge, and the beginnings of what could be a wonderful friendship...

Before he could decide though, the Elf prince had reached the still distracted wizard, and reached out to quickly secure him in a choke hold, only to find, with a faint popping noise, that his quarry was no longer there, having vanished into thin air.

"Now, that wasn't very nice," the wizard admonished, causing all present to jump as he reappeared beside Frodo, smiling slightly. "So I take it you decided to join us?" he offered, gesturing to the other makeshift seats around the fire, with one eyebrow raised.

That was obviously _not_ what the warriors had come to do, their tense stances, and their wary expressions said that almost as clearly as Gimli's gruff reply did, "And why would we want to join a sorcerer?"

The apparently 'young man' merely raised an eyebrow at him, his deep green eyes almost sparkling. "Why would you not? And besides, I'm not a sorcerer, I'm a wizard. There's a difference." He shuddered, "And while I can manage some sorcery, I have little patience for the blasted arts. What's more, you've been in the company of a wizard for quite some time now, surely showing a small shred of propriety in the presence of another is not completely uncalled for."

"The magic you exercise is not one I am familiar with," Gandalf told him, relaxing slightly as evident curiosity came to the forefront of his mind. This was undoubtedly due to a combination of two things, one; his interest in this foreign character and the powers he wielded, and two; Frodo clearly trusted the him, just as he apparently bore them no ill will, despite the number of threats they'd offered.

"It is not Istari magic," he nodded, "You are right... Though I am certainly practiced in those arts, they are not what I'm accustomed to. My people practice another type of wizardry entirely."

"The kind that you just used against us," Gandalf nodded, eyes speculative.

"The kind that I was just forced to use against you, yes," the other wizard clarified, that peculiar sparkle still present in his remarkable gaze.

Frodo sighed from his place beside Harry, shaking his head as he continued to sip at the steaming tea Harry had offered a short time earlier, "Won't you all just sit down, please? Harry means us no harm. As he said before, he didn't _need_ to save my life. If he met me harm, it would have been much easier for him to have simply left me buried in the snow, to die of either cold, or lack of air."

"Or both," Harry nodded.

"Harry?" Aragorn inquired.

"Harry Potter, my birth name, on my native world."

"And your name here would be?" Gandalf asked, even as he scoured his brain for why that name sounded so familiar.

"Known to you," Harry replied with an amused smile, "though I promised Lord Elrond I'd make you work for it, if ever we met."

"Elrond?" the old wizard frowned, shaking his head as the link continued to elude him. "You are a friend of his?"

"Usually, yes."

"Usually?" Aragorn inquired, frowning slightly at the mention of his foster-father's name.

"When he's helping either set of twins prank me, I can't honestly say I consider him a friend."

Both Aragorn and Gandalf burst out laughing at the mention of Imladris's twin-terrors, but while Legolas also appeared amused, he frowned slightly. "Either set?"

"Yes, his own sons, Elrohir and Elladen," Harry nodded, "or the Míriel twins, who can often be worse."

"Men arya a salpa tana o u-mauya, mellon nin." {We'll choose to take that as a compliment, my friend.} One of the twins offered from somewhere above them, making the members of the Fellowship jump slightly, before looking around for the voice.

"How can you be above us _now?!_" Gimli demanded, clearly trying to appear undaunted. "You said you'd lose your advantage if we moved out of the trees!"

"To the question: Magic, of course." One replied from a bit to the right of the clearing, though still far from any trees.

"To the accusation," this voice, though identical, came from closer, towards the center, even farther from the trees, "we lied."

Before Gimli or any of the Fellowship could respond to that, Harry chuckled before calling up to the heavens, "You really are enjoying this far too much, mellon nin. Come down and join us, lest you scare our guests off."

There was a pair of faint whooshing sounds before two identical Elven warriors suddenly appeared in the middle of the campsite, taking seats on either side of Harry and Frodo, while setting what appeared to be broomsticks down.

"Rúmil? Camthalion?" Legolas exclaimed, quite clearly shocked.

Both Elves smiled, and nodded in unison before the one on Harry's right replied, "Mae govannen, Legolas. Tana anda luume..." {Well-met, Legolas. It's been a long time...}

"Uma," Legolas nodded, smiling slightly, "Ta na." {Yes, it has.}

"Legolas, you know these two?" Aragorn inquired of his Elven friend, after listening a short while as the other conversed with two Elves he'd never seen before. He hadn't even known that they existed, as he'd always thought that his foster-brothers were the only Elven twins on Middle Earth.

"Uma, this is Camthalion and Rúmil Míriel. They are warriors of the Galadhrim, and have been my friends for many centuries..." The prince told him, before turning back to the pair with a frown. "But I have not seen you in so long, nor heard mention of you... I had thought you'd sailed over the Sea..."

"No," the twin on Frodo's left replied, shaking his head. "It was not to the Undying Lands that we journeyed, but to an entirely different world."

"Different world?" Gandalf murmured, and his eyes widened slightly as the puzzle pieces clicked together, "Ah, I see..."

"See what?" Boromir demanded, looking back and forth between the two wizards in obvious confusion as Harry nodded.

"Would I be correct in assuming that, in this world, you are known as Elerossë Tinehtelë?"

* * *

**_Remus's Dreams/Memories, Lothlórien ___**

_"It won't take but a minute, Mum!" the young wizard promised, running across the street to the bookshop before his mother could reply._

_"Remus, be careful!" the dark-blonde haired witch called after him, though she didn't appear to be worried, just a bit nervous, as she watched her only child look around the store from her position in the herb vendor's line. _

_That all change very quickly, though... All it took was a mere moment, the poor fortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, to change that little boy's life, forever..._

_"Watch out!"_

_"**Werewolf!**"_

_"Run for it!" _

_"Somebody stun it! Stupe--Ugh!" the wizard was cut off as another wizard ran into him, knocking him to the side of the street even as the werewolf he'd been pointing at launched itself at them. The stunner was terrified to suddenly find himself pinned under both his 'savior', and the werewolf that was now ripping the poor man apart._

_"Daddy!" a little girl screamed, only causing to intensify the wizard's terror._

_"Becky! Run away! Get out of here!" He screamed towards the child, even as werewolf paused, looking up and over towards the little girl that stood a short distance away, in the middle of the street, watching them with wide, terror-filled eyes. "**Becky! Run!!!**" he shouted again, now desperately as the werewolf moved off of him and towards his daughter. "**NO!!!**"_

_The father's shout were echoed by many others, as the werewolf pounced, souring through the air, towards the little girl, who had yet to move._

_Elaine Lupin was one of those spectators, watching the scene in horror, just like all of the others, certain that nothing could make this situation worse... until she saw her eight-year-old son, her only child, running towards the younger witch. "Remus! **No! Don't!!!**"_

_Remus Lupin paid his mother's shout no heed, if he even heard it, so focused was he on reaching the endangered six-year-old. He leapt towards her, even as both his mother and the girl's father managed to draw their wands..._

_Then it all just... happened, so quickly... yet it seemed as though everything had slowed down..._

_Wands all around them coming up... His mother's among them... The werewolf sailing towards the girl, snarling, only a short distance away now... But he was closer... Just as he'd known he was... And it was attested by the fact that he got there a few seconds earlier, colliding with the girl, pushing her out of the way, towards the side of the street, and rolling to follow her, even as he felt a tremendous pain in his ankle, spreading up through his leg... And spells were fired..._

_"**STUPEFY!**" Was undoubtedly the most widely used, as the tremendous wave of red light sailing towards the werewolf and the boy attested, and both were sent to the ground, stunned, after being blasted a few feet apart... _

_The werewolf appeared uninjured, but Remus's ankle was dripping blood..._

_Then a different curse rang through out the street, "Avada Kedavra!" sending another waive of light, this one a sickening green, towards the werewolf, engulfing it, ending its existence, even as the other witches and wizards on the street flinched back from the furious Auror that had sent the curse..._

_"Remus!" he heard his mother calling, though he could not reply as she hurried over to him and turned him over, hugging his stupefied form to her, tears dripping down her face. Then she clearly noticed the state he was in, and moved away slightly, to waive her wand at him. "Finite In--" but a hand on her shoulder stopped her._

_"You really shouldn't do that, ma'am." The Auror that just killed the werewolf told her, looking at her son with sad eyes, then glancing at his bloodied ankle before meeting her tearful gaze. "Best to take him to St. Mungo's, and let them handle it... He'll undoubtedly be in quite a bit of pain if you release him now..."_

_Remus barely remembered that trip to the English Wizarding Hospital... but he did know what he'd been told... If this had occurred only a few years later, he might not have been forced to endure the curse that was a result of his heroic, very Gryffindor-like, deed. The fact that he'd been stupefied almost immediately after he was bitten meant that the power had not yet had a chance to flood his body... It was trapped in the bite on his ankle, like a poison that had yet to spread._

_He could still feel that power now, especially near the full moon. It ran though him; tremendous, decadent, and unchecked... like ordinary magic in a young witch or wizard's body, only much, much stronger..._

_From then on, from when that power had entered his system, his life had completely changed. _

_He couldn't be a carefree little boy anymore, no matter how much his parents encouraged him to be... _

_He couldn't play with the other little witches and wizards in their neighborhood, no matter how much he wanted to... _

_He might hurt them... _

_He wasn't like them... _

**_They_**_ didn't spend four nights of the month locked in a cage in the basement. _

_It had been comfortable... It always was, in the beginning. His parents always used charms and transfiguration to make it comfortable. They used some charms and transfiguration to fix it up, after every night. Some charms were to make sure that one; he couldn't escape, for he'd surely be killed, and two; the place was at least somewhat habitable even while he was in wolf form. And his mother had to use all of her abilities as a medi-witch to care for him those four terrible, terrible days that followed the horrible nights when the full moon ruled the sky. _

_They had never thought he'd be able to receive formal schooling. Remus's parents had more then enough trouble with the Ministry to know that they wouldn't take kindly to the idea of having a teenage-werewolf near the other children..._

_So it had come as quite a shock when the Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, himself, had come calling on them, only to try to persuade Remus to come attend the school the following autumn..._

_"I assure you, we would be quite happy to have Remus attend. It's as much his right as anyone else's." the old wizard assured all three Lupins. _

_"But..." Mrs. Lupin shook her head, her eyes sad. "What about the full moon?"_

_"We've devised a solution to that," Grindelwald's defeater replied, before looking over at the eleven-year-old he'd come to invite to his school. "You regularly imprison yourself, every full moon, correct?"_

_"Y-yes..." Remus replied shakily, nodding slightly._

_"Well, then we can simply do the same at Hogwarts. A teacher will escort you to the place every evening, and bring you to the Hospital Wing every morning. It may make it difficult, to keep up with your schoolwork, but I'm sure you'll manage. And your teachers won't have any problems with tutoring you, should you need the help..."_

_"So..." Remus shook his head, his eyes wide, shining with long-suppressed hope. "So you mean, this is for real? I can really come to Hogwarts?"_

_Dumbledore nodded, "Of course."_

_Since being bitten, three years earlier, Remus had slowly begun to realize that he'd sacrificed his chance at a normal, happy life when he'd saved the other child's life. He didn't regret doing it, but he often cursed the Fates for cursing him with such a burden... _

_Often asked, why him? _

_Why did everything have to change? _

_Why did everyone **hate** him? _

_His kind? _

_He was only a werewolf four nights of a month... the rest of the time, he was just a young wizard, wishing he could live a normal life, play with other children, be accepted for what he was..._

_This was the first time he'd seen unreserved acceptance._

_His parents still loved him, he knew. But each full moon had made them draw away from him a little more. Had made them draw into themselves, denying reality..._

_Headmaster Dumbledore wasn't afraid of him. He could **see** it in his eyes..._

_He **accepted** him..._

_And for a long time, that was enough._

_There wasn't much Dumbledore could do for him. He'd already fought the board members, fought tooth and nail to get him admitted as a student. He'd already sworn the few other students that knew of his curse to secrecy... but that didn't keep them from avoiding him, for watching him with scared eyes, from keeping their friends away from him..._

_No, it wasn't until his roommates, two of whom were the most popular boys in the school, had invited them into their group, asked him to help them with a prank, to become a Marauder, so that they wouldn't have to bother sneaking out of their room anymore, that he'd really begun to feel a change._

_He'd desperately tried to keep them from discovering his dark, terrible secret. And, for a few years, it worked. Until their brains had developed and they'd studied werewolves in Defense Against the Dark Arts, one of the few lessons that he's, very pointedly, kept from participating in. And one that the teacher, also very pointedly hadn't called him, one of the brightest, if not **the** brightest of his year._

_It had been lonely... Those nights in the shack, all by himself... _

_He was accustomed to it, yes... but that didn't mean he'd ever grow used to it, and certainly not like it... Those long hours after being escorted to and secured in the stronghold the teacher's had made just for him, where he waited for the moon to rise, and the painful transformation to begin... Those hours were **far** worse, far more painful then the transformation itself... Almost as bad as when it ended... And when he woke up in the Hospital Wing, a bloody, torn up mess, reminded, once again, of why he couldn't open up to his friends..._

_But they had figured it out. And of his utter shock, they hadn't minded. They hadn't abandoned him... Instead, they'd covered for him. And two years later, they told him that they wanted to help; and they'd found a way to._

_Werewolves were only dangerous to **humans**. Humans were the only creatures a werewolf considered a natural enemy, to be slain on sight. But other animals, as long as they didn't threaten the creature, were fine._

_So they became Animagi..._

_He still remembered that night, one of the few nights that ranked high in his past as emotional roller coasters... He hadn't known what to think. _

_At first, he'd been elated that his friends cared that much for him. That they wanted to help him, and hadn't been lying the last two years, when they said that his curse didn't bother them. It was just that, a curse, and not at all his fault. _

_But then he'd realized how selfish he was being, and how utterly stupid it was for them to take this risk..._

_The process of becoming an Animagus was supposed to be very closely watched by an expert of some sort for a reason. It was dangerous; very, very dangerous. _

_So many things could go **wrong**... _

_He had no right to let his friends risk themselves for him! Not only was he betraying his friendship with them, but he was also betraying Dumbledore, and the trust the Headmaster had placed in him!_

_"We want to do this, Remus," James insisted, when the werewolf objected again..._

_Any further protests he might have offered were silenced by his other best friend, "That's right, Moony. We all want nicknames too, you know! And I can't very well be Padfoot without at least trying to obtain my animagus form!"_

_"Well, perhaps, but--"_

_"No buts, Remus," the old son of the Potter house shook his head, his warm hazel eyes serious. "It's our choice to make, and we've already made it." He glanced at the cauldron their most inhibited friend had been hovering over for the last hour. "Wormtail?"_

_The slightly overweight teenager looked up a moment later, while still stirring the potion. "It's ready..."_

_"Good," Sirius nodded, before pointing his wand at the flames under the cauldron, ""_

_The flames went out, and the room went dark, offset only slightly by the potion's strange, barely noticeable silvery-blue glow._

_All were silent for a moment, until the renegade Black muttered a slightly embarrassed, "Oops?" before lighting the room with another spell, "Lumos."_

_The strange, magical light that blossomed from the end of his wand didn't leave any part of the room untouched, and therefore easily offered scrutiny to the emotions their faces bore. As all of them were pureblood wizards, and had therefore grown up surrounded by magic, at ease with the idea that it was flowing through their veins, things like the strange light of illumination spell had never bothered them before. But it did now. At moments like these, it was all too easy to see why so many muggle-borns found it...uncomfortable...revealing..._

_After several moments, James placed a compassionate hand on the werewolf's shoulder, "Don't worry, Moony. We'll be fine." Then he turned back to Peter Pettigrew, accepting the goblet that he was offered, and watched as Sirius accepted his and Peter filled one for himself. "All right, on three..." he nodded, looking around a moment before continuing. "One..."_

_"Two..." Sirius joined him. _

_"Three!" All three of them shouted, as Remus looked on silently, with mounting fear as his only real friends raised the goblets their lips and drained them, quickly taking the hazardous concoction in. _

_After a moment of tense silence, all four of them released the breath they'd been holding, and the three who'd used the goblets quickly set them down on a side table, before turning to each other, each reading the questioning looks on the others faces, aided by the light that still came, steadily, from Sirius's wand._

_"What'd you think happened?" Sirius asked, looking around. "I don't feel anything..."_

_"I don't either..." James agreed, his tone voicing clear disappointment. "Maybe we missed something in the directions...Maybe we didn't--"_

_"No!" Peter shouted angrily, drawing his friends' surprised attention. "No! I **know** I did everything right. I planned everything! I followed all of the directions in the book! I--"_

_"I don't doubt you did, W--Peter," James offered a sad smile, shaking his head. "But maybe there's more to it then that... The Ministry might have something kept out of the books, so that you have to register with them, or something of the sor--" he stopped his eyes widening before he suddenly wrapped both his arms around his middle, gasping for breath._

_"Wh-What's wrong?!" Remus demanded, hurrying over to his side, stopping when he saw Sirius and Peter suddenly start gasping as well, collapsing to the floor a few feet away. "James? Sirius? Peter? What's wrong?!"_

_None of his friends answered, apparently too consumed by whatever it was that pained them. _

_After several moments of staring at his friends in horror, the young werewolf leapt to his feet, running towards the trapdoor that led from the Shrieking Shack to the secret passageway into the school, which Dumbledore had created just last year, for his convenience. "I'll get the Headmaster!" he shouted over his shoulder to them, trying to block their moans of pain out as he opened the trap door. He dropped down into the underground passage, only to freeze as painfully familiar sounds met his sensitive ears. He quickly turned around and stuck his head back up, into the room, to watch. _

_He watched, and winced, as he heard and saw his friends bones cracking, painfully submitting to the changes their Animagus forms required. Their muscles either stretched or shrunk depending upon which way they needed to go. _

_James's body was stretched at odd angles, which finally took on the shape of stag, so that his flesh could reform, taking its place over it. Fine, golden hairs erupted all over his new form, covering it, even as he collapsed on the four legs that lacked the strength to carry him._

_Sirius's body was pulled in different directions, and enlarged only slightly as his hands and feet became massive paws, his jaw stretched so that a snout could form where his mouth was, even as his skull crackled, also changing. Long, dark furs, as black as night, erupted around his body as he too collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. _

_Peter's transformation, though distinctly different, looked no less painful. His muscles spasm-ed repeatedly as they grew smaller, contracting, to find the skeletal frame that had disappeared, to become twenty times smaller. He didn't rise from the floor after his transformation either._

_It had been lucky that they'd decided to do that on the first night of holiday break. They didn't have classes for several weeks, so that gave them time to recover from the transformation, to transform back, and to grow used to the ability. _

_Remus spent the first week of that break nursing his friends, all of whom could barely move, and had to almost be force-fed the first few days. _

_But by the time Christmas came around, they were better again, though still tired. And that morning was one of the best ones Remus had ever experienced, as he was gifted with the realization those weary four nights each month, when the dreaded full moon hung high in the sky, didn't need to be spent alone, in solitude, any more..._

_What's more, it meant that he wasn't a danger to his friends anymore. They weren't prey while in their Animagus forms. And, if he ever bit them, they **wouldn't** be turned! The last was one of the reasons he'd agreed to try doing this. An interesting little fact that James had come across while reading up on Animagi, and one that gave Remus a new sense of hope._

_The last four years of school had been wonderful; full of numerous trials and tribulations, but overflowing with fun, laughter and joy. So it was a changed person that graduated at the end of that seventh year, after having served as a Gryffindor Prefect for the last three years, one of which had been under his best friend and soon-to-be wife, for James had in fact, finally found the courage to propose to his girlfriend of two years, and the wedding was only a few short weeks after graduation._

_Another one of the days that ranked high up in his life was undoubtedly the day his best friend's son was born; July 31st 1980. James' had taken him aside earlier, so he hadn't been at all pained when Sirius had received the title of godfather to the boy, assured that their next child would be his godchild. _

_Harry was a delightful baby. A source of light and hope for all of the Marauders, as the Wizarding world darkened, overshadowed by war. _

_Harry's second Halloween though, October 31st, 1981, wasn't a day Remus could ever look on without pain. He'd lost everything that night. Everything._

_Knowing Voldemort considered Harry the one that the Prophecy spoke of, James and Lily had hidden themselves and their son under the Fidelius Charm, which would have kept them safe, if their childhood friend, one of the Marauders themselves, hadn't been a traitor._

_Peter's betrayal had hurt even more then Sirius's supposed betrayal, undoubtedly because it made him realize that he'd turned his back on a friend who hadn't done anything to deserve it._

_The following full moon... _

_It was worse then all of its predecessors. As a child, his parents had always been there, before it happened, and when he woke up the next morning. As a teenager and a young adult, he'd always had at least one friend by his side..._

_But after that Halloween... He was alone._

_His father had died while he was in his sixth year at school. _

_Death Eaters had killed his mother a few months before Harry was born, in one of their terror attacks on Diagon Alley. _

_Peter was (supposedly) dead, killed by his traitorous best friend._

_James and Lily were dead, betrayed by a childhood friend, and murdered by the Dark Lord._

_Sirius was sent to rot in Azkaban for numerous crimes... Which they'd later find out he'd never committed. _

_And Harry...sweet, little Harry, was off to live with relatives that so clearly hated him. Remus knew that they did. He'd met the Dursleys twice before, and they were, without a doubt, the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. And Harry would spend the next decade with him; his childhood. And there was nothing Remus could do about it, thanks to his curse. The Ministry would never let a werewolf take custody of the famous Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter..._

_Yes... That was a lonely moon... as were all of the ones that followed, for the next thirteen years. His life had been little more then a search for a job, struggling to keep a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and food on his plate. Pacifistically fighting against massive, unyielding prejudices..._

_And then, the job offer from Dumbledore had come...A new chance. The opportunity to not only have a steady income and whatnot, but also the opportunity to meet all that was left of the happiest days of his life, his best friend's son._

* * *

**_Woodlands in the foothills of Caradhas _**

The members of the Fellowship simply blinked at their Istari guide, companion and friend, quite clearly lost at the turn the conversation had taken.

Not all of them though, two of them were quickly pulled back into a fairly recent, shared memory, of a conversation heard the night before they'd set out on this quest, leaving the relative safety of Lord Elrond's haven behind.

**_Flashback _**

_"I miss them, Father…" Arwen's melodious and presently mournful voice drifted through the quiet night over the nearby fountain's pleasant fall. _

_"Of course you do, my child," the Elf Lord replied softly, his tone kind. "We always miss those who have passed on that were dear to us."_

_"But we may never see them again," the princess continued quietly, after a moments pause. "What reason do I have to go to Valinor when no one I truly care for dwells there? I love you, truly, ada, but you would be the only one I have, if…if mother did not make it…" _

_This pained comment deserved a longer pause, in which Aragorn and Legolas had both stopped; deciding now probably wasn't a good time to interrupt the Lord of Imladris and his daughter._

_"You have friends, and family there, even without us... But I don't. My dearest friend left for another world altogether many centuries past--"_

_"Ránëwén, Elerossë, and the Míriel Twins would not want you to throw away your right to cross the Sea simply because they cannot."_

_The lady's reply was even quieter than before, "And do you want me to throw away my chance at true happiness?"_

_The Elf Lord's reply was long-delayed in coming, but it did nonetheless, "It is, of course, your choice to make..."_

_"Hannon le, ada..."_

_This appeared to be the end of the conversation, so Aragorn and Legolas moved forward once again, swiftly coming around the corner in companionable silence that belied their puzzlement. _

_"Ah, Legolas, my young friend," Lord Elrond stood with a smile from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the fountain, his daughter quickly following his lead, offering both of them a smile. "Welcome to Imladris, I do apologize for not greeting you properly, earlier--"_

_"You were busy, my lord," Legolas interrupted, smiling as he shook his head. "It is of little concern by comparison to all that is going on around us."_

_"Indeed..." the Elf Lord nodded, shaking his head slightly. "Speaking of which, the two of you should probably be abed by now, should you not?"_

_"We both felt drawn to the gardens, my lord. But I do plan on heading back soon."_

_"As do I," Aragorn nodded._

_"Good, good," Elrond nodded again, with a pleasant smile still in place. "I will bid you a good night then." _

_"As shall I," Arwen offered both of them a smile._

_"Good night, my lord, my lady," Both offered, watching as the two Imladris Elves made their way towards the gardens nearest exit, which happened to be in sight of this fountain. _

_Once the pair had passed through it, well out of hearing range, Aragorn turned to his friend. "Do you...?"_

_Legolas frowned, shaking his head. "I knew Rúmil and Camthalion Míriel in my youth, but I thought they'd journeyed to the Undying Lands long ago. I have not seen them in many centuries."_

_"And the other two?"_

_Here, the Elf Prince's frown deepened. "The only elf-maiden I know by that name would be Ránëwén Galathil, Haldir of Lothlórien's niece, and the Míriel twins' cousin. Her parents died in the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim's service, and she was brought up alongside Arwen... I had thought that she too had gone to the Undying Lands..."_

_"And Elerossë?"_

_Legolas thought for several moments before shaking his head and sighing. "It is not a name I recognize..."_

**_End of Flashback _**

So this was the 'Eleross' of whom the Imladrins' had spoken so highly of, accompanied by two of the other three they'd mentioned. Everything was suddenly quite a bit clearer at that realization, though there were still many questions left unanswered.

Arwen had indicated that the four of them had gone to another world entirely, as well, rather then the shores of Valinor...

But where was the fourth member of that party? The March Warden of Lothlórien's fair niece?

**_End Chapter 16: Mae Govannen_**

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**Translations:**

_- Mae Govannen - _Welcome (Well-met)

_- Abeo _- to change things/to disappear

_- Aliquantulum_ - small/a little

- "Neen... Anna o Ulmos, Osse ar Uinen, vene o kuile, kolindo o estel..." - "Water... Gift of Ulmo, Ossë and Uinen, vessel of life, bringer of hope..."

- "Mori... luume o titta kala, men ilya loo mi fuine..." - "Night...a time of little light, placing all within its domain in deep shadows..."

- "Silme... Anna o Varda an I'Palurin, ya man anta Estanesse mere ana laise, ar veela palurin Vali anta..." - "Starlight...Varda's gift to the world, that which gave the first born the desire to live, and explore the world the Valar offered..."

- "Isil... Varya ne pilindi o Tilion, I'Telperion, I'telwa loote o I'Telpina Lairelosse o Valar, men mi tinda vene o Tilion ve eä mauya, horta (ter/tere) menel oiale mori, ve lindoorea o kala aro estel mi I'Palurin nyelle..." - "The Moon... Protected by Tilion's arrows, the Telperion, the last flower of the Silver Tree of the Valar, placed in a silver vessel with Tilion as its guiding spirit, sent through the heavens each night, as a source of light and of hope in the world below..."

- "Uuvea Vala, tenmen merne ar mauya yana tana kare. I'telwa loote ú-mere na kaure ne voronda o I'kala, anta hon uma notana kaure ta. Fainu-hon osina harwe!" - "Great Valar, hear our prayer and will that it be done. The last flower shouldn't be feared by those of the Light, so give him no reason to fear it. Free him of this curse!"

- "Anta si merne, cen I'hosse o mane mi luurea luu..." - "Grant this request, aid the forces of good in these dark times..."

- "Mauya ya tana kare--" - "Will that it be done--"

* * *

**Response to Reviews:**

**Jeni** **Black** - Hi Jeni!

Cool. Some of my friends and I do that to, but we have different tastes, so it doesn't always work out.

LOL, I know. That's why I had to stop there! :-P

Sigh Yes, the last chapter was pretty bad, wasn't it? I'm trying to cut back.

Ruel? Really? Cool. John Ronald Ruel Tolkien... Do you think I should put that in the disclaimers instead?  
Eugh. Church choir? Yes, very boring... That's the main reason I didn't join my high school chorus this year. Last year was terribly boring, it was ALL religious music! (Why does it have to be so BORING?) Attractive guy? That's always fun. ****

**Tara-Yo** - No, I'll still finish the story. But if it's below 50 I don't really have an incentive to focus on this story. I have several other stories that I haven't updated in a long time. If the reviewing drops down to around where some of those are (high 30s), then it makes more sense to focus on the story that hasn't been updated lately. I'm not trying to guilt-trip people into reviewing, I'm just stating facts. That's just the way my brain works.

LOL, your welcome. And thank you. ****

**SlytherinSupreme** - Yes, a very vicious cycle... yet an oddly satisfying one. May it continue for many chapters to come... OK that looked better in my head, but... shrugs****

**Nimohtar** - Hmm, you're right he probably would... But that's still a ways in the future... I will probably put out a question like that later though. Who should stay on Middle Earth, who should go to Valinor, who should go back to Earth, etc.?

LOL... That's the way pairing _usually_ work for me. They just naturally fall into place...

Violet was actually a method of getting around a writers block that developed into half of a beautiful pair. So, shrugs, you win some, you lose some.  
Thank you, I try. Though crossovers tend to be what I focus on. If you look at my bio, I think I only have one fic that isn't a crossover.

Smirks Yes, they would come in handy, wouldn't they?****

**Veggie's Brat** - Yes. Sorry... Nope, evilness is all from my own wicked little mind. :-P

Your welcome. Do you want any more help with it? If you do, just email me ), I'd be glad to help.

Yes, avoiding cliffhangers kinda goes against my nature. Sorry. :-P****

**Metropolis-Rising **- Thanks!

Yes, that I understand. But, according to , nearly three-thousand-people have read the chapter before this one, so far. I know, some people re-visit it. I always go though it at least once. But... Say every person that reads it has to go there three times for some reason or another. That's still at least a thousand people. Asking a thousand people for 50 reviews isn't that bad, I think…

Admittedly, when I wrote the AN for reviews I was feeling a little down on it... I'd just read a fic (I don't even remember the name) that was rather awful, bad plot line, almost all dialogue, and not very good dialogue at that, etc. And that fic, with 15 chapters had over a thousand reviews. Maybe they were all flames, but I tend to notice numbers like that... And sometimes they bother me. Shrugs Sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you guys, but I guess I did.

LOL, don't worry though. The next chapter's almost all done anyway. It was supposed to be part of this chapter, but I decided to break it off and throw it into the next one. So the next one's almost done. ****

**Hoshi-tachi** - LOL, true.   
Thank you, I love understating things.

And yes, I thought Frodo meeting Harry first was a good idea...  
You are still there, aren't you? Still alive, reading and kicking?... Right?.….right? pouts ****

**Wytil** - Sigh, I honestly wasn't talking to people like you, who kindly review on a semi-regular basis. Like I told Metropolis-Rising, I was talking to the hundreds of other people, who according to , read and never review.

Thank you. ****

**Ghost123** - LOL, I suppose. I was really just trying to see how many people cared enough to review. You don't have to review every single chapter, but I do appreciate a comment every now and then. Thank you. ****

**Dadaiiro** - LOL, yes that chapter was pretty short, wasn't it? I think this one was a little better.

Yes, Harry did a lot of things in his 'youth', while on Middle Earth... smirks

No, remember, Legolas and Aragorn have only heard of him. They overheard Elrond and Arwen, and that was the one name Legolas didn't recognize. And Harry'd left Middle Earth long before Aragorn was born. ****

**Rogue1615** - LOL, of course. Why do you think I stopped there? :-P

I know, that was really why I did that. I wanted to make sure that that didn't happen here.****

**Cloudednine** - Thanx.

LOL, yes, that is an amusing image isn't it? Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf and Boromir being afraid of, as you said, "something with the word bluebell in" its name...

Oh no, sidetracking is good. And I agree, it usually is small details that give stories their depth.****

**Musicstarlover** - CHOCOLATE!!! runs towards pile, trips on crack in the floor, falls into pile of chocolate... looks around... shrugs...attacks chocolate  
... Comes back several minutes later...

Of course, Harry is Elerossë, after all.

Shoot them? No, that wouldn't work. How would they review then? ... Though you're right. They are mean. turns towards them :-P  
Sigh Most of the Elvish I use is from my own list, which has accumulated to somewhere around 80 pages in length, through hundreds of searches and years of fan fics. I'm afraid I can't offer much help with finding it.

YAY! YAY! I'm a fave! :-D

**Taggerung** - ...oops...Sorry, I ate them all. I'm afraid I like cherries too. pouts pathetically

Glad to hear that, thank you.

LOL, as many have said already, and I've admitted to: I'm evil, intentionally.

This chapter was longer, wasn't it? I think it was actually over 20 pages... And I tried to cut back on the review responses, but I did ask for the reviews, so... shrugs****

**Snizzle** - Walks over to large rock. Struggles to life it. Finally manages a few inches. Snaps fingers. Printed copy of There and Back Again appears. Drops rock. Pile holds rock slightly off the ground. Crouches down to look under rock. Hello? I updated! Do you want to come out? Upon receiving no response, stands up, walks away a few feet, stops, snaps fingers again (something I actually can't do), and the new chapter appears. It's over here if you want it. Looks around as wind starts to blow a bit. You might want to hurry though...it could blow away. Walks off.  
Thanx for reviewing! ****

**Chris** - LOL, yes, you are terrible. But thank you for the compliment.

I know, I've never really understood why people can't read though their own work. Admittedly, I make mistake, and sometimes I miss them several times, that's why Shadowsong beta's these chapters, but still... If you spend hours, days, weeks, or even _months_ or _years_ writing something, wouldn't you think it'd be a good idea to proof-read?

Thanks for reviewing! :-D****

**Mmb1** - Yeah, they are, aren't they? But then again, most crossovers tend to be. They require a bit more outlining, thinking and all-together working then one-dimension fics, and most authors don't seem to want to give that.

Sigh I don't know what happened there... I think took some of the things out, I'll have to go back and edit... joy...****

**Mystress** **Tate** - Thank you, glad to hear it!

Yeah, I'll have to go back and edit some of that, some of the changes put in did something when I was updating. Shakes head I'll take care of it soon, as soon as I manage to get out of my lazy-phase. Thanx again! ****

**Christiane** - LOL, you're welcome. True. And yes, Bean and Wenham were wonderful, weren't they? ... I'm not sure if I prefer dark-haired Orlando or fair-haired, but I absolutely adore all of the characters he's played, so I'm fine saying I'm just a crazy fan, no matter what the hair color... Hmm, you're right, I don't remember hearing Legolas's hair color mentioned in the book... well, that's interesting/reassuring. I hate going against cannon on a lot of things, but I will occasionally.… And yes, it would have been nice to see more of Elladan and Elrohir, I really like them. I think they were in Fellowship of the Ring, though. Remember, at the Council? I think Elrond was sitting in between them. They have a few more seconds on screen in the extended edition, but not much, and you don't hear what they say, as the only time they talk at all is when everyone jumps and starts arguing.

Umm hmm, you're right, Harry isn't an elf, and you can only learn and adapt to so much, so that did need to be pointed out. It's one of the things that can destroy HP-elf-fics.

LOL, serious/Sirius distractions. Good one!

**2nd review** - LOL, I think doesn't like multiple zeros or something like that. It wasn't a typo, it's happened several times before in reviews... As to the Elvish, I translate it myself. I'm sure the grammar's terribly off, but it's the best I can do. Thanx again!   
Once again, thank you. Observations, analyses and compliments are always appreciated. :-D****

**Nyoko** - LOL, glad to be of service. Where'd you go? How was it?   
Yup... There was supposed to be more interaction between Harry and the rest of the Fellowship, but I decided to move that to the next chapter. Sorry. pouts  
Sorry about the wait for this chapter too. It was difficult.

And you're right, school shouldn't be necessary after a certain point... Or maybe we should just get to jump to the college format earlier. I don't think I'd mind school as much if I could pick the classes I take.   
Thanks for the compliments and the review! ****

**Kitlite** - I'm glad you like it. Sigh Sorry about the long wait on those... I'm having a rather large case of writers block with most of my stories. :-(****

**Tonnocal** - Yeah he does, doesn't he? I don't know, I might mention it, but I can't really say their closely related. Harry isn't native to Middle Earth, after all, not by birth. LOL, hey, Percy has his good points! :-P  
**Mebririth** - Hi.

Australia? That sounds pretty cool. I'd like to go to Australia... And Hawaii and Greece. I know, odd combination, but those are the three places in the world I'd really like to go to sometime soon... I have a friend in Australia. We met on a Carribean cruise and were pen pals for a few years, but we stopped writing after a while... She moved. :-(  
Well, it's nice to know someone else appreciates it. I love the Elvish, but I probably won't go into major conversations with it anymore. I'll probably use italics for conversations from now on. I don't know, we'll see...   
Sigh No, the scene change thing wasn't deliberate. I didn't always clearly mark the change in viewpoints of people in the same area (the Fellowship), but other then that, 's new formatting's been giving me trouble. Sorry. pouts

Teal's great. I got to baby-site a few days ago... She slept almost the entire time, but it was still fun. She was soooo adorable! And I got to feed her a bottle! ... She's cute now, really cute, but you're right. I can't wait until she's a bit older. I especially can't wait until she's old enough to appreciate being spoiled. I know I won't be the only one, but I hope I can be close to her when she's older. I don't see much of my own aunts, but she lives closer to us then they do, so I should be able to visit a lot. Thank you. ****

**CrAyOnS tAstE LIkE pUrple** - Thanx.

Sigh Sorry, I don't use a site. I translate everything myself, and I'm pretty sure I'm not completely accurate, but I try. Sorry :-( , I've really just been using my own list of Elvish words and phrases, compliled from multiple searches online and years of fan fics.   
LOL, I know, I'm evil, aren't I?

**I'm the Green Fariy** - LOL, don't worry, I'm not going to stop now. I'd have to hit a fairly large writers block for that to happen.

1.... Sorry, you'll have and see.

2. Most of the HP characters will be getting bigger parts later on. Draco should be too.

Thank you.

**Iluvschool** - blinkblink You know, seeing that name while on summer break kinda scares me...

Hey, I think it's time for you to write another chappy! I wanna see how Harry gets along with the fellowship!

**Asdf** - Yeessss! Summer! A wonderful, wonderful, thing! :-D

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****

**Thanks to****: Heala, Athenakitty, Maxennce**, **The Red Dragons Order, Horsecrzy** - LOL, don't we all? **, Fate, Lady** **Urquentha** - :-D** , GODSPEEDNIGHT, E, Apraxas, Edy, ANON** - LOL**, Wren** **Truesong, DOG-SEJR, Elisa** **K.B.C., Rayna** - nods :-D**, The Mystical Elf**, **Sirob, DeFox, Aensland** - :-P**, Silver Sparklze, Hiyala-a, Malach, Monk121, Fiery Pheonix, Angua, Rain** - **, Evil** **Elven** **Ice** **Queen, Tifenn, Calen, Kairi-725, Gaul1, Tim, Heather-Hezzer-and-Honaluki** - **,** **Mel, RandomInsaneElfStalker89, Insanechildfanfic, Eriee, Amy** - :-D**, Fanatic, Crissy Potter, Aensland, Lord Nomad, Toras, Silverwolf22** - **, Alababa, Lazy1** - **, Silver-Entrantress-Elf**, **Prisilha**, **ArwenMGranger** - LOL, **,** **Vera** **C.D, Left** **Enthusiasm**, **Genvessel** - **, Lasse Petersen, Hermes09, & Judith**

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**AN****: Wow guys, 85 reviews, I really am impressed! Sorry about the wait. I didn't mean to leave you hanging for so long, but I just couldn't seem to finish this chapter. It isn't really even done yet, there was supposed to be at least ten more scenes, but I decided to break the chapter up more, so that it wouldn't be too long for 's downloading process (I've actually done that before. On a different fan fic, I had to post one chapter as three separate updates because couldn't handle it all as one!) and you wouldn't have to wait another week... **

**I think I'll be able to get the next chapter out sooner, within the next week or so. I don't know, depends on how much I have to work next week. They've kinda been running me ragged. **

**Anyway, I'll just restate a few of the things I said in my earlier replies. **

**1. As I told Tara-Yo, Metropolis-Rising and a few others, I didn't mean I need a minimum of 50 reviews per chapter before I update. If I finish the chapter before the previous one has 50 reviews I'll still (probably) update. I won't be happy, and I probably won't make a tremendous amount effort to get the following chapter out anytime soon, but I would put it up anyway. **

**If the reviewing dropped down a lot, say into the 30s or 20s, I'd probably turn to a different story and work on that for a while. A few of my stories get around that number of reviews per chapter, so it would only make sense to switch to one that hasn't been updated in a while. **

**I'm not trying to guilt trip you guys, I'm just telling you how my brain works. Reviews really do influence me, and I thought that I should point that out. **

**Plus, according to nearly three thousand people read the last chapter of this fic. Even if everyone of them read it 2, 3, 4, 5 or more times, that's still a lot of people that are reading and never reviewing. And I've watched the count go up before. After I update a chapter I'll check it ever few minutes or so, or maybe every half hour, and I've noticed that a review usually doesn't come in until well after a hundred people have gone to the chapter.**

**As I said, I know its not perfect, and I'm not trying to guilt trip, but reviews ARE the only form of payment that fan fiction authors get, and I think it'd be nice for people to remember that everyone once and a while. Besides, say the count was closer to two thousand, and the rest were just error-clicks or something. Is a ratio of fifty to two thousand; one out of forty people, really asking much? I don't think so. I apologize if you disagree, but it probably won't change my opinion, especially considering that you guys managed to reach a count of 50 in a few days after the update. The extra 35 came up well after that, some of them explained, others not... And that's all I'll say on that for now.**

**2. A lot of people have been asking me about the Elvish that I use in my fan fics. Honestly, it's just from a list that's compiled from years of reading fan fics and running searches online, and a LOT of artistic license. I'm sure my grammar's _horrible_. I haven't taken an extensive course in it, partially because I know it wouldn't be purely-Tolkien Elvish. Tolkien didn't make a complete language, he developed it and made a lot up, but he only really wrote down what he needed. Therefore, yes, I know what I write is far from perfect, but I work with what I have and try to make it presentable. I apologize if that offends people but really, if that's all it takes to make you hate a story; 1) you shouldn't be reading this, and 2) get a life! (That explains why I used "titta" for little, small, etc., even though it means "tiny". "Tiny", by definition, is something small, and is therefore a synonym for similar words. That's what I've had to do for a lot of the words, and realistically, it still makes sense. If you look up a word in French, Spanish, or any other human language, you'll find that most of them have more then one meaning when translated to English. Why is that? Because the languages were developed to be translated into other languages, they just were, for talking and usage, then someone used made up the art of translation to bridge the language gap.)**

**...Sorry, I had to get that off my system.**

**3) On further note, I'd like to thank whomever it was that nominated me for the Best-Unfinished Lord of the Rings/Harry Potter fan fic at the Crossover Awards. They didn't tell me who it was, so this is the best I can do.**

**4) I've also started a Mailing List for this fic at , you're all welcome to join if you want to. There isn't much on it yet, I'm still trying to develop a picture for the main page, and then I'll be uploading some files, but... shrugs, it's there. As it says on the opening page, it's not just for updates, I'd also like to use it as a message board, but it needs members for that. All are welcome… Well, not all, but most. Spammers and Professional Flamers aren't welcome, but most of you don't fit the second category and Spammers will just be kicked off. (I have it set so that I have to approve all members, but all you really have to do is say who you are and why you want to join (probably because you read this note and are reading the story), and I'll approve you. I'm just trying to avoid spammers posting on the site...)**

**5) And, last but not least, does anyone whose reading this like to draw fan art and whatnot? Because I'd be curious to see what your impression of some of the characters/situations are, if you do, and would like to post them on the new site. **

**Well, that's all for now! See you later!**

**REVIEW PLEASE!!! Makes puppy-dog face**

**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	18. Chapter 17: Mae Govannen: Part II

**Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

* * *

**There and Back Again**

**_Chapter 17: Mae Govannen: Part II_****__**

By Jess S

**_

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_**

**_Woodlands in the foothills of Caradhas _****__**

"I have heard of you, Elerossë Tinehtelë," Gandalf offered after a few moments of silence, "Lord Elrond's family has always spoken very highly of you, as has King Thranduil, and all of the Galadhrim, of course."

The other wizard offered a slight smile, nodding just as slightly. "Of course." He shook his head; "I departed from Arda to return to my home world a short time after your arrival here, so an earlier meeting was difficult to arrange." He grinned suddenly, "Not that heri amil nin didn't try."

Gandalf laughed, "Of course."

"_For curiosity's sake,_ mellon nin," Camthalion inquired after a few moments silence, "_Why have you never used that spell in actual combat before? Against, say -- oh, I don't know -- **Orcs**, maybe?_"

Harry shrugged as he offered his rather flippant reply. "_Where's the fun in that?_" Then he returned his full attention to the Fellowship, all of whom looked disgruntled, for varying reasons. Those who could understand what they'd just said were undoubtedly shocked at his reply; after all, most wouldn't consider fighting Orcs of any kind 'fun'. Those that couldn't understand Elvish were obviously disgruntled at the fact that they had no idea at to what was being said. "Now," he waived to the makeshift seats around the blue campfire. "Would you care to join us?"

After a moment's hesitation, Gandalf nodded and made his way over to the boulder that was across the fire from Harry, the other members of the Fellowship followed his lead, quickly taking advantage of the seats that the wizard had gestured to a moment before.

Once everyone was settled, silence hung around them for several moments. It was by no means an absolute silence, which would certainly be a bad thing out in the wilds. No, the sounds of the wild life that lived here-abouts were all around them, reassuring in its normalcy.

Finally someone decided to break the challenge that had seemingly been mutually imposed, though he currently couldn't say he was part of either group as he'd already tied himself to both, as allies.

"Milord?" Frodo inquired, drawing the wizard's amused green gaze to him.

"As I said before, Mr. Baggins, you may call me Harry or Elerossë, I prefer to avoid formalities when I can." He ignored the twins' snickering in favor of holding the Ring-bearer's slightly hesitant gaze.

"Yes, Mil--Harry," Frodo bowed his head slightly, almost sheepishly, making the wizard smile.

"You were asking...?"

"I was just wondering if you stayed for the portrait to be painted, I didn't get to ask you before..."

"Portrait?" Gandalf inquired, curious.

"Yes," Harry shrugged, smiling slightly as he leaned back slightly, to rest his back again the boulder he'd taken his seat by. "Mr. Baggins was just telling me, before you arrived, of a painting the Shire-folk commissioned a few centuries back. I'd honestly forgotten about it. And to answer your question," he smiled at Frodo, "no I didn't stay for the painting itself. Just long enough for the artist to get an outline and a firm image in her mind. I didn't like staying put much, back then."

"Ah, that must have been when you were wondering around on your own, then?" Rúmil inquired, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Of course."

"Was there any place you didn't visit back then?"

Harry was silent for a few moments, while he considered Camthalion's question. Then he shook his head and answered with a simple, "No."

"But you couldn't have gone into Mordor, the Lady would've--"

"Thus we have the reason I avoided the Golden Wood for a century after that."

"So you _did_ go into Mordor?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Rúmil inquired an eyebrow raised as the Fellowship watched the exchanged with varying combinations of amusement and puzzlement.

"Because I wanted to," the wizard replied with another shrug. He decided to elaborate after a moment's pause, seeing the confused expressions all around. "If you remember," he pointed out, clearly still addressing the twins, "I was somewhat... intrepid, around then."

"Suicidal, you mean."

"To each his own," Harry shrugged, before returning his attention to their guests. "Now, would you prefer business or supper, first?" he inquired, gesturing to the large pot of stew that was offering an agreeable aroma from its place, a few feet away from the bluebell flames.

Gandalf frowned, "Business, I suppose. Though I must wonder how you came to be here."

"All in good time," the other wizard sighed, before pausing to consider his next words. Apparently coming to a decision, he continued. "Mithrandir... what do you know of me? Of where I come from? Of what I am?"

* * *

**_Remus's Dreams, Lothlórien _****__**

_I remember the first time I saw Harry... If not for my vast, eclectic knowledge in magical areas, particularly Defense, Dark Arts and Dark Creatures, then I almost certainly would have had a heart attack, as I'd turned from chasing a Dementor away to see the Hogwarts students that had been in the train compartment with him kneel down next to their fallen peer, who'd obviously fainted due to the Dementor's affects. ___

_I'd felt so bad for the boy, as I made my way over to my trunk, to take out some chocolate, only to stop and stare as I saw the boy's face. He looked almost **exactly** like James had when he was young!___

_The differences became clearer though, as he woke up, rather quickly too, considering what had caused his collapse. Most people took at least a few hours to recover from the Dementors affects, depending upon how severe their encounter was, not Harry though.___

_He had Lily's eyes. Deep, insightful, green orbs that seemed to be capable of piercing your very soul on first glance. The angle of his cheeks and nose has obviously been softened by his mother's heritage too.___

_He was skinnier, and… scrawnier then James had been too, not much, as James had been rather gawky at thirteen too, but it was noticeable. And he was a bit shorter then Remus had expected, for neither one of his parents had been short, indeed, Lily was well above average, and James had been one of the tallest boys in the school by the time they reached seventh year.___

_But the **pain** in his eyes... That was something that had rarely been either of his parents gaze. Both had loved like so much, looked on it as an adventure, and sometimes a joke... It had been a rare opportunity indeed, to see either with pessimistic viewpoints. ___

_Their son was different though. Clearly, life hadn't been quite as easy for him. And whatever memory lie dormant in the back corners of his brain must be a terrible one indeed, to make his face so pale, even as he struggled to rise.___

_"Are you okay?" the redhead boy, probably a Weasley, had asked, clearly concerned.___

_"Yeah," Harry had replied, looking towards the door, undoubtedly wondering where the Dementor had gone. A normal reflex for those that were affected so badly by it, and a good one to have. Moody was a perfect example of how good at least a small amount of paranoia can be for you. "What happened? Where's that... that thing? Who screamed?"___

_They'd all tensed slightly at that, but Remus had chosen to keep quiet, waiting to see if any of his soon-to-be-students knew enough about Dementors to decipher just what had happened.___

_"No one screamed, Harry," the Weasley boy obviously didn't know much about them, but that was understandable. Dementors weren't something any normal witch or wizard liked to talk about, so being a Pureblood in this scenario would be of little help to him. ___

_None of the other children seemed to know what to say to him either, all were quite pale, but not offered any comment as Harry looked at them. Perhaps it was time to put this topic to rest, for now. With that thought, I'd finished unwrapping the Honeydukes chocolate bar he'd brought with them, and started to break it apart into large chunks.___

_"But I heard screaming--"___

_The chocolates protesting snap to being broken made all of the children jump, before turning to look at him, and watch as I broke the enormous bar up. ___

_"Here," I'd said to Harry, handing him the largest piece, while struggling for something else to say...perhaps something reassuring? "Eat it. It'll help."___

_Harry had taken the chocolate, but didn't eat it. Instead choosing to question his new professor. Good paranoia again, though it pained the werewolf, who was used to suspicious glances by now...or should be. "What was that thing?"___

_"A Dementor," I had told him, while turning to hand pieces of chocolate to all of the other students. Not only did it serve that good purpose, it also allowed him to turn away from those painfully familiar eyes, set in an even more painfully familiar face. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."___

_The children no longer had anything to say after that, instead choosing to stare at him.___

_So I had hastily crumpled the chocolate wrapper up, before putting it in his pocket and turning away towards the door. "Eat," I'd called over his shoulder as he left, "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..." I had strolled past Harry and into the corridor, quickly heading down to the front of the train to make sure the Dementors had cleared off and they'd be on their way again soon. That done, and no other possible problems in sight, there was little more I could do, other then return to see my best friend's son again... It had pained me only slightly, when I'd come back in, to see that they still hadn't touched the chocolate I'd offered them. But I'd nonetheless offered a small smile, "I haven't poisoned the chocolate, you know..."___

_Harry had blinked then, apparently forcing himself out of his thoughts to take a large bite of his chocolate. That action had warmed the werewolf almost as much as it had undoubtedly warmed the younger wizard, and it had given Remus the courage to continue.___

_"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," I had said, my smile a little surer, "Are you all right, Harry?"___

_"Fine..." Harry had muttered, evidently embarrassed. ___

_But by what I wasn't sure. It could have been any number of things, but I felt it was probably either being addressed by his first name, or the attention... So I'd have to make sure to address all of the students that way, so as not to embarrass Harry further.___

_And that was what I'd done, or at least tried to.___

_I really hadn't meant to single Harry out in class, but the incident with the Boggart was practically unavoidable. In retrospect, I doubted the arrival of a Dementor and its powers in the classroom would cause less terror then the arrival of Voldemort himself, as the Dementors truly were the embodiment of fear...and darkness.___

_The lessons had been a way of making it up to him, at least to begin with. But they were more then that too. They were also my chance to get to know Harry Potter, son of James and Lilly Potter, two of the dearest friends I'd ever known. ___

_It wasn't difficult to see them in Harry, not for someone who'd been as close to the Potters as I had. Just as so many had said, he very closely resembled his father, but he wasn't exactly the same. And it was more then his eyes, which very clearly came from his mother. ___

_For one, James had always had a small amount of trouble with his skin as a teenager, until Lily had talked him into trying some of the products advertised in Witch Weekly, but Lily herself had never really had any trouble with her skin, I knew that because she'd told them as much when she'd consented to order the product for her boyfriend. Harry's skin was also just a shade or two paler then his father's had been, though that could be because James had spent so much more time outdoors, but then Lily had always been fairly pale too. ___

_He had James' nose, which had been one of his father's favorite features, but he had his mother's chin, as it was too soft to be James's. His hair was unruly and irrepressible like his father's had been, but it was a bit thicker too, like Lily's. Harry's mother had also apparently saved him from his father's most hated feature: his feet. James had always hated his big feet and Harry's weren't anywhere near as pronounced. ___

_Much of what made Harry who he was, was his own. But Remus could also see so much of his parents in him, too. His mastery of the Patronus Charm proved that his academic records were a bit faulty, or at least not accurate instruments for measuring his abilities. Harry was a determined, brave, and strong young man, Remus had known that the moment Harry asked for lessons in overcoming his greatest fear – the fact that both his parents could easily be voted as the most obstinately stubborn people in Britain or maybe even the world probably didn't hurt either. ___

_Of course, thinking of Lily and James had so easily drawn my mind back to their days at school... And Sirius Black...___

_Of course it had been difficult enough to ignore all the paper articles on 'Bloody Black,' as I'd called him repeatedly.___

_That was a wound I had never really healed from...which was probably why I accepted the proposal of Sirius's innocence so readily, after seeing Pettigrew on the Map. One would think that the wound would have festered over time, making it impossible to consider Sirius Black's innocence even a remote possibility. But I hadn't even given the thought a moment's doubt once it had entered my head, which had been when I'd seen the forth person that was with Harry, Ron and Hermione as they'd made their way back from Hagrid's Hut, only to be attacked by Sirius, undoubtedly in his Animagus form... From there, everything had fit together.___

_Of course, one would think that Pettigrew's betrayal should hurt me no less then Sirius's had. On the contrary, his betrayal was so much worse that it should be considerably more painful for me to think of... But Peter had always really been sort of the fourth wheel to their group; the silent one that occasionally contributed but was otherwise rarely there. It wasn't until then that I had realized that we did actually consider Pettigrew as something of an outsider in the Marauders. It wasn't intentional; it had just always been...___

_Maybe we'd sensed some of Pettigrew's parasitical nature... maybe not. That could have always come later: after years of being somewhat of a no one in our group of friends.___

_My parents had never really liked Peter... It just went to show how good they really were at judging character.___

_Their deaths had been particularly hard, especially with no friends to turn to. It had been difficult enough to find work, but after my parents died, and could therefore no longer argue my case to prospective employers; it had just gotten that much harder.___

_They'd always been there for me, always...___

_I couldn't really remember how many times I'd cursed "Bloody Black's" name, I'd never counted, so the term "countless" really could apply. I had been hurt, deeply, to be sure. And for many years I hadn't even bothered trying to rise from the state of living I'd been in. As a werewolf, no one in the Wizarding World had wanted to give me a job, so it was difficult enough with all of the prejudice, especially since I didn't really care. ___

_For a long time I hadn't cared about anything: life, death, friends, family -- well, no, my parents had been the only real lights in my life, up until their deaths. ___

_That was why the opportunity of to become a Hogwarts Professor was so... wonderful, for lack of a better word. It was a chance to escape that discrimination; a chance to escape all of the suspicious, and often hateful, stares of coworkers. The students didn't need to be told, and the faculty either trusted Dumbledore's judgment, had been teaching when I had attended Hogwarts and therefore trusted me, or both.___

_Snape had been the only problem, from that very first day, when the teachers met and talked about the upcoming school year, the day before the students were brought to school via the Hogwarts Express. ___

_Many topics had come up from around the table; Black's escape being the most worrisome, though the fact that the Ministry was sending Dementors to guard the grounds clearly troubled Dumbledore quite a bit more, and I really couldn't blame him. ___

_Black had already gotten past those monstrosities and out of the Wizarding World's inescapable prison, what good could they possibly do for Hogwarts, except perhaps terrorize the students, staff, and the Hogsmeade residents? ___

_One would think that combination of Dementors and Black would have been impossible to surpass, when it comes to worrisome situations. For me it was not. What I'd been dreaded hearing had not yet come up, but something else that was closely affiliated to the situation caught his attention, and concern, much more readily then the mention of the Dementors themselves. It wasn't long into that conversation, that the suggestion that would have horrified most of the older students was put forward: No more Hogsmeade trips.___

_"After all," Professor __Sinistra pointed out, "this is Mr. Potter's third year. We can't very well say that he himself simply cannot go to Hogsmeade. There press would have a field day!"_

_"I don't believe that that will be necessary." Professor McGonagall sighed, "Mr. Potter's relatives aren't the most... sympathetic people. And I find it very likely that they will not sign the parental consent form that he's received in the post."___

_"For his own protection, surely?" Professor Sprout inquired.___

_McGonagall was silent for a moment, before she offered a slight nod, though her mouth was sent in a disapproving line.___

_Personally, I had agreed with her whole-heartedly. I'd forgotten that Harry had been sent to live with Lily's older sister and her husband. ___

_I had met Petunia and Vernon Dursley, at Lily and James's wedding, many years past. They'd been one of the most unpleasant couple's I'd ever met. I'd assumed at the time that their moodiness could be due in part to Mrs. Dursley's pregnancy, even though she was only a few month's along. But Lily had assured me that they'd been their usual selves, and she was rather relieved when they left, almost immediately after the ceremony, staying only to offer rather stiff congratulations under Mr. and Mrs. Evans' watchful eyes, before practically running out of the church. They hadn't been seen coming or going or anywhere in between at the party after the ceremony. Lily hadn't been surprised, and had explained afterwards that neither one were fond of wizards, and could very well be considered "the worst type of Muggles imaginable."___

_The other issues were of an eclectic variety, everything from the possible changing of the school uniform (something which was apparently discussed every year), to the scheduling of classes, supplies, new books for the library, plans for various holidays throughout the year; such as Halloween, and whether they should do more then just hold a feast that night, in honor of All Hallows Eve. ___

_It wasn't until the end of the meeting though, when I had finally begun to relax that Snape (of course it was Snape, who else could it possibly be?!) had pointed out the problem with me working amongst them.___

_"Forgive me, Mr. Lupin, but even you must agree that you aren't exactly safe for children to be around when the full moon is high... you're not exactly your normal, pleasant self."___

_"I will not endanger the students or the faculty, **Mr. Snape**; I can assure all of you of that." I'd forced out, struggling to hold back the insecurity I felt as my Lycanthropy was brought up for debate.___

_This had happened **so** many times before. It **always** happened! Someone would object to my presence, the others would voice their concern, I'd be warned that I was going to be under close surveillance, and I'd have to make sure I stayed up to date with work or they'd have to let me go. If I did anything that bothered the other employees, they'd have to let me go. And a few weeks or even days later, my supervisor would call me in, tell me that there'd been a complaint and they had to let--___

_"We all know that, Remus." My former House Head offered me a kind smile as she broke into my troubled train of thought. "If it comes down to it, we can always resort to the same methods we used when you were in school."___

_Snape snorted, "And I'm **sure** that will be **quite** effective."___

_"Wouldn't it be easier to simply take the Wolfsbane Potion on a regular basis?" Madam Pomfrey suggested, drawing all eyes to her. "It's expensive, I know, but in all of the accounts I've seen, completely effective."___

_"Severus?" Dumbledore inquired, staring the Potions Professor down with a regal gaze.___

_After several moments, Professor Snape nodded, replying after a barely noticeable sigh. "It is one of the more complex potions known, but I can make it, if the ingredients are supplied," he finished, sneering at me as he eyed my shabby attire. "They're much too expensive to simply take out of the school stores, and we don't have a few of them."___

_"Send a list of the ingredients to me some time within next three days," the Headmaster ordered, knowing full well that they'd probably arrive by owl post soon after the meeting. "The school will fund it." He raised a hand when I began to object, "We cover all medical expenses that our staff may acquire, Remus. That is part of your contract."___

_I remember blinking repeatedly then, stunned at the suggestion that Lycanthropy was an illness, rather then a curse, as I'd come to think of it, and so many others agreed. After several moments silence, I'd bowed my head. "Thank you."___

_The meeting closed in less then ten minutes after that. Though Snape was the only one to leave immediately, as most of the staff hung around, simply to chat... And I'd begun to feel at home.___

_The ensuing months had been some of the happiest of my entire life. All of the students, even most of the Slytherins had been respectful, and generally eager to learn. There had been a few times that had pained me, like when I was helping Harry learn the Patronus, only to find the teen was hearing his parents last moments when Dementors came to close.___

_But the worst moment with the students in school was, by far, the Gryffindor class I'd come back to upon recovering from the full moon...___

_"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"___

_"We don't know anything about werewolves--"___

_"Two rolls of parchment!"___

_"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" I'd asked the indignant students, knowing full well that Snape wouldn't have cared either way, as this was undoubtedly another ploy to destroy me.___

_The babble of complaints from all around served as a fairly adamant confirmation for my suspicion, though I could only pick out bits and pieces of the babble.___

_"Yes, but he said we were really being--"___

_"--He wouldn't listen--"___

_"--**Two rolls of parchment!**"___

_Despite how much the situations troubled me personally, I was fairly certain that there wouldn't have been anywhere near as much of an uproar if most of the students had completed the assignment; two rolls of parchment indeed! So my secret was probably safe, for the most part. And it was that realization, combined with the amusement the indignation on every student's face, that allowed me to offer a reassuring smile as I raised my hands for silence and went on to assure them, "Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape--" And what an interesting conversation that'll be..."-- You won't have to do the essay."___

_Most of the students were very clearly relieved by this announcement, confirming my earlier intuition. It seemed that only Miss Granger was disappointed, and her reason -- "Oh **no**, I've already finished it!" -- confirmed that I may yet need to remain cautious around her._

* * *

__

**_Woodlands in the foothills of Caradhas _**

"The people of your world practice magic as an everyday commodity, I believe, everything from cooking and cleaning to actual combat... though I'm not quite sure how that's possible."

Harry nodded, then paused a moment in thought before responding with a sigh. "That's not quite true. There is a large population of witches and wizards who, as you say, are used to using magic every day for, essentially everything... Not all the people of my world are like that, there are a large number of Muggles; people who cannot use magic, some of whom won't even subconsciously or consciously admit that it's there. There are people in between, or course, squibs are people who are born into magical families, and muggle-borns are witches and wizards born into non-magical or Muggle families. The families of muggle-borns usually are open to the idea of magic..." He raised an eyebrow when both of the twins snickered. "What?"

"Your relatives aren't," Camthalion pointed out.

"No," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "they are not." Seeing the Fellowships confused expressions he went onto explain. "I'm not a muggle-born, but my mother was, my father was a pureblood, which means he was wizard born into a magical family. My mother's parents were open to the ideas of witchcraft and wizardry, but her older sister wasn't, and therefore didn't react well to it. When my parents were murdered I was sent to live with her and her husband."

"Why would someone send you to live with someone who won't accept what you are?" Pippin asked, clearly confused.

The wizard shook his head. "Not all witches and wizards are good in my world; the same way that that not all people are good in this one. It simply isn't possible... Some go dark. Before I was born there was a wizard who went as dark as you could go. He was into everything dark, deals with demons, necromancy, you name it..." Harry sighed. "Over the years he'd accumulated a large group of followers; purebloods who felt that it was there duty to wipe out all those of 'impure blood' and of course, all Muggles. He called himself Lord Voldemort, still does..." he raised a hand to forestall the onslaught of questions before it could start.

"My parents were part of one of the most powerful magical groups that fought against him, and were therefore primary targets in their own right. But thanks to a prophecy that one of his followers overheard a Seer give to the leader of the Light forces, he knew that if I lived I could be his downfall... So he tried to kill me. There's obviously more to the story then this, but long story short; he killed both of my parents, first my father then my mother, but because both of them willingly sacrificed themselves to protect me, their magic stayed behind, to do what they could not... One of my teachers has always said that there is no force, magical or otherwise, more powerful then love, and that it was there love that saved me. There magic shielded me from the killing curse and sent a weakened version back at him... It was strong enough to destroy his body and their house, but his spirit somehow escaped, to come back to haunt us several years later."

"But he was destroyed!" Merry objected, shaking his head as he protested. "You just said--"

"His spirit somehow survived. We don't know how. But a few years after that, he managed to create a physical body for himself, and amassed a great deal of strength." Harry shook his head, and sighed before continuing. "That was just before I came here, to Arda. When Ránëwén, Rúmil, Camthalion, and I returned to my world, I found that not a moment had passed while I was away."

"Incredible..." Gandalf shook his head, "You were here for centuries, I believe, were you not?"

Harry nodded, "Twenty-one of them... we theorized that though time may pass at similar rates in both worlds, my removal simply left and empty place, which only my return could fill, so I was returned to the same time and place... Though there may very well be alternate realities where I did not..."

"Why are you here now, though?" Legolas inquired, "If you were able to return home?"

"As I said before, nothing had changed, not time had passed since my departure... So the War that had been coming together before was still coming together. Therefore, we had to take part in it..." Harry paused, considering for a moment, before shaking his head and continuing with a frown etched across his youthful features. "The spell the used to send us to my world had a clause in it, apparently, one that we were not aware of until we were endangered... My foster-parents not only asked for the Valar to send me home, but also to protect me."

"Therefore," Gandalf nodded as comprehension dawned, "when you were endangered, as is inevitable in war, you were pulled back into this world... For, I assume, your world is not under the Valar's providence."

Harry nodded, "We believe so, yes..."

"But then where is Lady Ránëwén?" Legolas frowned.

"Well obviously they wouldn't bring a lady with them if they were coming to meet us, Elf." Gimli interjected, not noticing the heavy silence that their host had to struggle to overcome in order to continue a moment afterwards.

"We arrived in Lothlórien, with many of my people. Several aren't much older then I was when I came here, but they are well trained in our forms of magic." Harry forced himself to continue, "Lady Galadriel has used her Mirror, to See if anymore of my people came through and didn't land in the Golden Wood."

"And?" Aragorn inquired after a moment's silence.

Harry sighed, "Unfortunately, it appears that Voldemort and what may be all of his forces were pulled into this land as well... and they landed in Mordor."

* * *

**_Remus's Dreams, Lothlórien _****__**

_I wasn't vigilant enough, it seemed. ___

_I should have seen it coming, though. ___

_Hermione Granger wasn't coming to be known as the brightest witch of her generation, among the best Hogwarts had ever seen, for nothing.___

_"NO!" Hermione screamed, as I tried to explain myself -- and Sirius -- to Harry, "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too -- **he's a werewolf!**"___

_The silence that rang around the shack was one I'd grown accustomed to over the years; it was the one that always followed the accusation, though I'd always hoped to not hear it here. I knew he'd paled at the charge, but I nonetheless attempted to restore the pleasant atmosphere I'd become accustom to having around these three teens and all of the others. "Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," I had told her, shaking my head sadly. "Only one of the three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead..." I shivered at the thought; I might die myself if Harry died within my lifetime... I don't think I'd be able to handle another loss... "But I won't deny," I finished, "that I am a werewolf."___

_I then turned towards Ronald Weasley, as the younger wizard attempt to stand, only to fall over, clearly in pain. However, my attempt to approach and help him was not met kindly. "**Get away from me, werewolf!**"___

_I'd frozen at that... Another exclamation I was all too used to hearing... With a great deal of effort, I suppressed the painful memories that drew up, before turning to Hermione and inquiring softly, "How long have you known?"___

_"Ages," the girl replied stiffly, "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."___

_"He'll be delighted," I had told her, albeit more coolly then I'd intended. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant... Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"___

_"Both..." the teenager had replied quietly.___

_I had half-forced a laugh at that, "You're the cleverest witch I've ever met, Hermione." And that was the truth.___

_"I'm not," Hermione had whispered in reply, shaking her head. "If I'd been a bit clever, I'd have told everyone what you are!"___

_"But they already know," I told her. "At least, the staff does."___

_"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped, demonstrating that he really was from a pureblood family, and therefore prone to at least a few of its prejudices. "Is he mad?!"___

_"Some of the staff thought so," I replied, shaking his head as Sirius's concerned look. Though it was a bit heartening; at least it proved that some of my childhood friend was still in their, underneath all the dirt and malnutrition. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy--"___

_"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled, making me wince... ___

_Of all the people to hear that from, it had to be him. The boy who looked so much like his father. He wasn't a replica of course, but it was close enough to really hurt, especially when he had the same eyes as his mother. Except Lily's eyes had always been caring and kind, never full of anger and hatred like her son's were. "___

_"YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" The boy finished, pointing at Sirius, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank into, his face hidden in one shaking hand.___

_Obviously the sight unsettled Sirius as well... Harry was his godson, after all. He seemed only mildly comforted when the large cat -- Crookshanks? -- jumped up beside him, and climbed into his lap, purring.___

_"I have **not** been helping Sirius," I had tried to go on reassuring them, "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look--" Throwing caution to the wind, I'd separated Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw them back to their respective owners. "There," I'd told them, while sticking my own wand in my belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"___

_All three were silent for several moments, undoubtedly trying to figure out what the catch was, before Harry replied, "If you haven't been helping him," he jerked his head towards Sirius, and glared at him for a moment, before turning back to glare at his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "How did you know he was here?"___

_"The map," I'd answered simply, with a shrug, ignoring the shocked look Sirius sent my way. Really, who else would he expect to inherit one of the few Marauders heirlooms? "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it--"___

_"You know how to work it?" the boy demanded, clearly suspicious.___

_"Of course I know how to work it," I remember waiving my hand impatiently, and shaking my head at the idea that I might not know how to use the Map. "I helped write it. I'm Moony -- that was my friend's nickname fore me in school."___

_"You **wrote**--"___

_"The important this is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?" I hadn't realized that I'd started to pace while he watched them for their reactions. I didn't notice any of the dust my movements disturbed. "You might have been wearing your father's invisibility cloak, Harry--"___

_"How'd you know about the cloak?!"___

_"The number of times I saw James disappear under it..." I waived the questions and the pleasant memories it invoked away impatiently. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."___

_"What?" Harry had demanded, shaking his head. "No we weren't!" ___

_"I couldn't believe my eyes," I'd continued, paying no attention to Harry's interruption as he went on pacing around the small room. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could **he** be with you?"___

_"No one was with us!" Harry had shouted, confusion clear in his eyes.___

_"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled **Sirius Black**... I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow--"___

_"One of us!" The youngest of the Weasley boys had insisted angrily.___

_"**No**, Ron," I had shaken his head firmly in response. "**Two** of you." I had stopped pacing at that point, and was instead looking over Ron carefully. "Do you think I could have a look at the rat?"___

_"What?" the redhead's eyes had widened almost comically in disbelief. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"___

_"Everything. Could I see him, please?"___

_Ron had hesitated still, but had eventually put his hand in his robes to pull out his pet rat.___

_That was all the confirmation I'd needed. I'd seen Pettigrew in his Animagus form more then often enough to recognize him by sight... And his reaction to his circumstances didn't do anything to lessen my suspicion. Ronald had to struggle to hold onto his long bald tale to keep him from escaping, all the while trying to calm him down.___

_"What?" Ron shook his head, looking at me, "What's my rat got to do with anything?"___

_"That's not a rat," Sirius had told him.___

_"What'd you mean -- of course he's a rat--"___

_"No, he's not," I remember telling him, my voice quiet. "He's a wizard.  
  
___

_"An Animagus," Sirius had picked up, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."___

_After several moments of silence, the redhead had shaken his head again, "You're both mental!"___

_"Ridiculous!" Hermione had backed him up, her voice faint.___

_"Peter Pettigrew's **dead!**" Harry had burst in angrily, "**He** killed him twelve years ago!" He'd said, pointing at Sirius.___

_The older dark haired wizard had grimaced, shaking his head before growling, "I meant to, but little Peter got the better of me... not this time, though!" He'd pushed the cat that'd been comforting him off his lap before rising to make his way over towards Ron, who shouted as the escaped convict lunged at him, forcing him to take most of his weight on his broken leg.___

_"Sirius, NO!" I remember yelling, launching myself forward, and dragging my childhood friend away from Ron, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that -- they need to understand -- we've got to explain--"___

_"We can explain afterwards!" He'd snarled, trying to throw me off, still clawing at the air with one hand as he tried to reach Pettigrew, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.___

_"They've -- got -- a -- right -- to -- know -- everything!" I'd panted, straining to restrain my friend. That was one of the few occasions I'd appreciated my additional strength as a werewolf. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry -- you owe **Harry** the truth, Sirius!"___

_That seemed to get through to him, for although he hadn't taken his eyes off the rat, he did stop struggling for the moment. "All right then. Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..."___

_"You're nutters, both of you!" Ron had said, his voice shaking as he looked to Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off." He had tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but I couldn't let him go yet, particularly not with the rat.___

_So, with a sigh, I had leveled my wand towards him, though I was actually pointing at Pettigrew as I spoke to the boy who was holding him. "You're going to hear me out, Ron," I'd told him quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."___

_"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron had yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Pettigrew was fighting too hard, making his 'owner' sway and overbalance.___

_Harry had quickly made his way over to his friend and pushed him back to the bed. Then, pointedly ignoring Sirius, he had turned to me. "There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die. A whole street full of them..."___

_"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius had snarled, managing to sound painfully animalistic, while watching Pettigrew struggle in Ron's hands.___

_"Everyone though Sirius killed Peter," I had told him, nodding, "**I** believed it myself -- until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauders Map never lies... Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."___

_Harry had looked down at Ron then, meeting his eyes and nodding. I knew full well that they were probably agreeing that both Sirius and myself were mad... it was probably only my presence that had made them hesitate at all. After all, I hadn't been imprisoned in Azkaban for the last thirteen years... Though I had lost everyone I cared for, been almost universally ostracized from society and suffered a painful transformation that could be considered as painful as a minor Cruciatus, on a monthly basis... But I probably shouldn't point that out to them...___

_Finally Hermione had spoken, her voice almost a mockery of her usual, scholarly calmness, but what she had to say still bore the same intellectual insight he'd come to expect from her. "But Professor Lupin... Scabber's can't be Pettigrew... it just can't be true, you know it can't..."___

_"Why can't it be true?" I'd asked her calmly, pointedly using the same tone I would in class.___

_"Because... because people would **know** if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework -- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animals they become, and their markings and things... and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up in the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list--"___

_I couldn't help myself then; I just had to burst out laugh as even Sirius turned to spare Hermione a somewhat amazed look. After I managed to calm down a few moments later, I smiled, "Right again, Hermione! But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."___

_"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus..." Sirus half-snarled, half-sighed as he watched Pettigrew's desperate attempts to escape. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."___

_"All right...but you'll have to help me, Sirius," I told him, somewhat truthfully, though my real go was to try and make him stop acting like a madman. "I only know how it began..." I broke off as the bedroom door opened of its own accord behind me. All five of us turned to stare at it, then, after a moments hesitation, I'd walked toward it and looked out into the landing, "No one there..."___

_"This place it haunted!" Ron shouted, looking around fearfully.___

_"It's not," I told him, still trying to find what might've made the door open. There wasn't even a draft of any sort from the hall... "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me." I had pushed some of my graying hair out of my eyes as I thought back on it, before nodding. "That's where all of this starts -- with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."___

_I heard Hermione make a shooshing noise behind, and turned back after closing the door firmly, to see that she was watching me intently. ___

_"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a full-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me... But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school..." I'd sighed, turning to meet Harry's eyes. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted **because** I came to Hogwarts. This house" -- I looked around the room, the miserable feeling I'd often associated with it, rising to the forefront of my mind as I did so -- "the tunnel that leads to it -- they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone from coming across me while I was dangerous..."___

_No one said a word as I told my story; the only sound other then myself was Pettigrew's frantic squeaking.___

_"My transformation in those days -- was terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor... even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...But apart from my transformations, I was happier then I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends, Sirius Black... Peter Pettigrew... and, of course, your father, Harry -- James Potter." I'd smiled in reminiscence, before shaking my head and continuing. "Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her... I was terrified they would desert me the moment the found out what I was. But, of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth... And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."___

_"My dad too?" Harry had asked, obviously surprised.___

_"Yes, indeed," I told him with a smile. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagi transformations can go terribly wrong -- one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from Sirius and James. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could turn into a different animal at will."___

_"But how did that help you?" Hermione had inquired, visibly puzzled.___

_"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," I told them. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They snuck out of the castle every month under James invisibility cloak. They transformed... Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."___

_"Hurry up, Remus..."___

_"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there... well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals that they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether and Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade then we did... And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and signed it with out nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."___

_"What sort of animal--?" Harry had begun, undoubtedly still curious about his father, but he stopped when Hermione cut him off.___

_"That was still really dangerous!" she'd shaken her head, "Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"___

_"A thought that still haunts me," I told her heavily, shaking my head. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed at them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless -- carried away with our own cleverness... I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course... he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan out next month's adventure. And I haven't changed..."_

* * *

__

**_Isengard, the Fortress of Saruman_**

Well, that last few hours had certainly been interesting. If you can call watching two very powerful dark wizards face off interesting...

To say that Sauron's two great Wizarding allies didn't get along would be an incredibly mild statement. And whoever said it would certainly have a talent for understatement.

There was no physical sign for their dislike of one another... not yet, at least. No, the chaos around them had nothing to do with combat; no that was simply due to the presence of hundreds, perhaps thousands of orcs hurrying about to do their Lord's bidding. The fiery, polluted and dark atmosphere did suit both wizards' moods though.

Saruman the White, the Istari wizard of Isengard, traitorous Head of the Order of Wizards had come to Middle Earth in the year one thousand of the Third Age, to fight against the Dark Lord of the Rings. Back then, he had truly believed in the Istari's cause, and had wandered Middle Earth seeking to overcome the Ring Lord. But after several centuries of this, he grew proud and wanted to have power of his own, and so he'd retreated into Isengard and the tower of Orthanc, where they now stood, to be drawn, in time, unwittingly under the Ring Lord's spell, to become a faithful servant in his quest for dominion over this mortal world. The Orcs, Half-orcs, Uruk-hai, and Dunlendings that now followed his command, as he spoke in the name of their true Lord, the Great Eye, marched under a black banner marked with a white hand. But, before his loyalty to "his" Lord was first and foremost those weaknesses that had made him susceptible to the Lord of the Ring's Call: his pride and his desire for absolute power.

Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, one of them many Dark Lords Earth has suffered in its time, was used to bravado and defiance from his enemies, submission from his servants, but he had no allies. The idea that someone could be equal to him seemed absurd. He was the Heir of the Greatest of the Hogwarts Founders, born to rid the Earth of the foul Mudbloods and their ilk. He had come to bring the Earth to its proper state of order, one that could be obtained and held under his command, once all of the Mudbloods and Mudblood-lovers were gone. That had been his primary goal in life since he discovered his true heritage as the Heir of Slytherin. It stung that his mother had been forced to taint her royal lineage, but that, and the memories of his childhood among the lowlifes only served as one more stimulus to achieve his goal. And he would. Once the people of this world fell under the Ring Lord's control, he would return home with a powerful ally to support him in overrunning and purifying his world of the lesser beings. That had always been what drove him, since discovering that he truly was a Slytherin, but there was one more thing that matter just a small amount more. As he'd told the young fool, Quirrel, shortly before his second meeting with the Potter brat: Power is all that matters in the world, in _any_ world, and those that put good, compassion and morality before it were simply trying to compensate for their own weaknesses; their inability to seek it.

Neither one handled competition well. And that was exactly what they were to each other; they couldn't see the other in any other light.

Though the scene below them probably didn't help. Or perhaps it did. Who knows? It's very possible that evil, psychotic masterminds _liked_ to watch the monstrous creatures below tear the earth apart and set it afire in their quest for the creation of more of their ilk, though stronger. The Uruk-hai army Saruman was assembling would be ready soon; of this he had no doubt. But that did not please him, not now that he had this new rival and two of his followers watching the scene with him from his balcony in the Orthanc.

"As far as I can tell, Voldemort," the White Wizard said, his honeyed tone just a bit off due to the sharpness of his words, demonstrating just how angry he was. "The only problem here is you. You and your...followers, is it? The group Gandalf is leading will now have to make a _much_ more perilous journey."

"What is so dangerous about traveling through a mine?" Lucius Malfoy inquired, aware that his Lord probably wanted to ask the same thing for curiosity's sake, but was undoubtedly refraining for the sake of appearance instead.

This question drew a deep laugh from the alien, self-important wizard. "Oh, it's not the mines themselves that are the problem, not really. The physical journey is undoubtedly treacherous, as they will be in the dark, scaling rock walls and paths for many days at least, struggling to keep warm--"

"Magic can easily dismiss such nuisances." The blonde pointed out.

"Yes," Saruman nodded, looking out at the destruction below. He could easily pick out those that didn't belong; Voldemort's people, whom the Orcs down below obviously feared, as they gave the dark, strangely masked wizards a wide berth as they past through the work, silently examining it to report back to their master at later date. He'd already scene the kinds of magic they were accustom to using, and had little doubt that the mines would not bother them physically, for they would not allow the challenge to be physical. But that was of little consequence. "And the warriors with Gandalf are undoubtedly quite capable of handling the physical perils of the mines without much aid. Even the Orcs that have long overrun the mines probably won't bother them much."

"So why the confidence?" The dark haired woman standing on her Lord's other side finally spoke.

"I don't believe I was given your name, Mistress?" The White Wizard offered pleasantly.

"Bellatrix Lestrange. And my Lord is right. He is always right." The dark beauty, for she was a beauty, if a rather crazy one. A well trained fanatic, no doubt.

"Bellatrix," Saruman nodded, "perhaps in your world that is so," here he glanced at Voldemort, holding his gaze for a moment before turning his back on all three to look back out at the darkened landscape below. "But this is not your world."

"No," Voldemort offered reluctantly, "it is not."

Keeping his back to them, so his smug satisfaction at the small victory didn't show, he nodded. "There are more perils in those mines then mere Orc, shadow, or chill." He spun around to lead them inside, and followed them, though their leader obviously did not like doing so. Once inside, he turned to the left and made his way over to the desk, where he picked up an old tome and began flipping through the thick pages. "Gandalf fears to go into those mines for a reason..."

"A reason?" Malfoy pressed when the Istari didn't continue after a moment's pause.

"The dwarves delved too greedily, and too deep."

Comprehension visibly dawned on Voldemort's face. "They roused something?"

Saruman nodded, smirking as he finally reached the page he desired. He offered the book to them. "One of Gothmog's ilk remains on Middle Earth to my knowledge, it has long slept deep beneath the mines... but no longer."

"A Balrog?" Voldemort inquired, in a tone that clearly suggested that if he had eyebrows one would be raised in skepticism as he looked up from the book Lucius now held.

Saruman simply waived him to go on, before returning to the balcony, to leave them to the pages he'd granted them access to.

Voldemort nodded to the head of the Malfoy family to read.

The fair-haired wizard waited only a moment, to prepare himself, before reading the text aloud for his master and his wife's cousin's benefit;

"_The most terrible of the Maiar spirits who became the servants of Melkor, the Dark Enemy, were those who were transformed into demons. They were Balrogs, the "demons of the night." Of all Melkor's creatures, only Dragons were greater in power. Huge and hulking, the Balrogs were Man-like demons with streaming manes of fire and nostrils that breathed flame. They seemed to move within clouds of black shadow and their limbs had the coiling power of serpents. The chief weapon of the Balrog was the many-thronged whip of fire. This weapon was so terrible that the vast and evil Ungoliant, the Great Spider that even the Valar could not destroy, was driven from Melkor's realm by the fiery lashes.___

_Most infamous of the Balrog race was Gothmog, Lord of the Balrogs and High Captain of Angband. In the Wars of Beleriand three High Elven Lords fell to his whip and black axe. In each of Melkor's risings and in each of his battles, the Balrogs were among his foremost champions, and so, when the holocaust of the War of Wrath ended Melkor's reign forever, it largely ended the Balrogs as a race._" AN: Paraphrased from the passage on "Balrogs" in "Tolkien, The Illustrated Encyclopedia," on pages 192 to 194.

"So one of these...demons awaits them in the Mines?" Voldemort inquired of the Istari, who was still out on the balcony but nonetheless well within hearing range.

"Yes," Saruman confirmed smugly, "the dwarves that were mining there some time past dug to deep, and woke one. It killed their leaders, and then encouraged the Orcs who'd been trying to drive them out of the mountain for some time to wipe them out. Since then the Orcs have multiplied within the safety of the mountain, and are now quite a threat on their own. And if Gandalf manages to take them far enough into the Mines, which he will have to do, if they wish to make it to the safety of Lothlorien before continuing their quest, they will fall."

"And what is their quest?"

"I do not know," the Istari admitted with a shrug, "some futile effort to stop us, no doubt. But I do know that one of the four Halflings that travels with them has the Ring of Power in his possession. Perhaps they are trying to hide it, or simply make it more difficult to find. It doesn't matter though. Once they are dead, the Ring will be able to return to its Master uninhibited."

"Hmm..." Voldemort considered it for a moment. Then shook his head, "These mines are confusing in and of themselves, many tunnels and whatnot, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then they may be able to simply avoid encountering the demon. In which case, your plan will have failed completely."

"**_If_** they do make it out of the Mines alive, which I highly doubt," Saruman replied, his tone sharp once again. "Enough Uruk-hai will be ready to handle them. It will serve as merely a delay, nothing more."

"But why bother with that delay, when some of my Death Eaters could wait for them on the other side of the mountain? You did say there is only one way in or out on each side..."

* * *

**_Remus's Dreams, Lothlórien _**

_I still remember the panic I felt when I saw Snape standing there standing in the doorway, his eyes gleaming madly. "Severus--"___

_"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout--"___

_"Severus, you're making a mistake," I tried to convince him, pleading with him. "You haven't heard everything -- I can explain -- Sirius is **not** here to kill Harry--"___

_"Two more for Azkaban tonight," he interrupted, smirking. My heart sank as he continued. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a **tame** werewolf--"___

_"You fool," I shook my head as I continued in a barely audible voice. "Is some schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"___

_BANG! ___

_I didn't here him cast the hex for the snakelike restraining ropes, but I certainly felt it as they coiled around me, both effectively gagging me and tying me up. I couldn't find my center of balance with both my ankles and my wrists tied together, so I fell over, unable to move.___

_I heard Sirius roar in rage and start to make his way for Snape, but the Potions Master's cold words stopped him just as they nearly stopped my heart.___

_"**Give me a reason**. Give me a reason to do it, **and I will**."___

_"Professor Snape," Hermione inquired softly, clearly hesitant to question a man that looked as crazy as her Potions Professor did now. But the fact that she was questioning clearly showed that we'd gotten through to them, at least partially. And so I felt some hope at the thought. "It--it wouldn't hurt to hear what they're trying to say, w--would it?"___

_"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat at her, "You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murder and a werewolf. For once in your life, **hold your tongue.**"___

_"But if--if there was a mistake---"___

_"KEEP QUIET YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, and I was rather sure that if he didn't look mad before he most certainly did now. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"___

_Hermione didn't speak up again, while Snape turned his attention back to Sirius.___

_"Vengeance is very sweet... How I hoped to be the one to catch you..."  
  
___

_"The joke's on you again, Severus," Sirius snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle I'll come quietly."___

_"Up to the castle?" Snape's tone was far too self-satisfied for my liking. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be pleased to see you, Black... pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."___

_"You--you've gotta hear me out," Sirius croaked, suddenly frightened. "The rat--look at the rat--"___

_"Come on all of you," Snape clicked his fingers and the ends of the ropes that were binding me flew to his hand. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too---Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already!" he snarled suddenly, and that small bit of hope returned. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin--"___

_"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry replied. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"___

_"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works!" Snape hissed. "Get out of the way, Potter!"___

_"YOU'RE PATHETIC! JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN--"___

_"SILENCE! I WILL **NOT** BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape suddenly shrieked, his anger somehow reaching a new level. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved you neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black -- now get out of the way or I will **make you**. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"___

_"**Expelliarmus!**" Three voices yelled at once, and there was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges while something slammed into the wall, probably Snape.___

_After several moments of silence, Sirius spoke. "You shouldn't have done that... You should have left him to me..."___

_Harry didn't reply, but I could hear Hermione whimpering a short ways away. "We attacked a teacher...Oh, we're going to be in **so** much trouble--"___

_He struggled against his bonds, and was relieved when someone -- it had to be Sirius, none of the three third years was physically strong enough by themselves -- bent down and untied me.___

_With a sigh, I straightened up, rubbing my arms where the ropes had been cutting into them, while I turned to smile gratefully at James' son. "Thank you, Harry."___

_"I'm still not saying I believe you," he told me.___

_"Then it's time we offered you some proof," I nodded, before turning slightly towards Ron. "You, boy -- give me Peter, please. Now."___

_"Come off it," the boy said weakly as he clutched Peter to his chest. "Are you trying to say that he broke out of Azkaban to come after **Scabbers**? I mean..." he looked up at Harry and Hermione for support. "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat -- there are millions of rats -- how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"___

_"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," I said with a small frown, turning to my friend. "How **did** you find out where he was?"___

_Sirius reached inside his robes -- which were in a state far worse then any of mine have **ever** been -- and took out a crimpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out show us.___

_It was a photograph...One that I briefly remember seeing in the **Daily Prophet**, in early August, when I came for an interview with Dumbledore, which actually turned out to be more of a lunch date with him and my old House Head. Minerva had pointed it out, as all of the children and both parents were Gryffindors, and the Weasleys were always struggling with money, so it was a nice treat for them.___

_But how -- "How did you get this?" I asked him, bewildered. ___

_"Fudge," he replied. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page... on this boy's shoulder... I knew him at once... how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts...to where Harry was...."___

_Then I noticed it. "My God..." I murmured softly, staring from the rat to the picture and then back again. "His front paw..."___

_"What about it?" the youngest of the Weasley boys demanded defensively.___

_"He's got a toe missing," Sirius told him.___

_"Of course..." I breathed, shaking my head. "So simple... so **brilliant**... he cut it off himself?"___

_"Just before he transformed. When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself -- and sped down into the sewer with the other rats..."___

_"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" I asked him. "The biggest part of Peter they found was his finger."___

_"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right---"___

_"Twelve years, in fact," I nodded. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"___

_"We--we've been taking good care of him!"___

_"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he? I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was loose again..."___

_"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron yelled, nodding towards the large orange cat that was purring on the bed.___

_"This cat isn't mad," Sirius said hoarsely, as he reached out a bony hand to stroke the cat's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me... Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."___

_"What do you mean?" Hermione asked softly.___

_"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't... so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me... As I understood it, he took them from a boy's bedside table." Sirius smiled faintly, before shaking his head with another sigh. "But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it... This cat -- Crookshanks, did you call him? -- told me Peter had left blood on the sheets... I suppose he bit himself... Well, faking his own death had worked once..."___

_"And why did he fake his own death?" Harry demanded, suddenly furious. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"___

_"No," I tried to intervene, "Harry--"___

_"And now you've come to finish him off!"___

_"Yes, I have," Sirius confirmed, sparing Peter a glare.___

_"Then I should've let Snape take you!"___

_"Harry," I interrupted again, trying to calm him down. "Don't you see? All this time we've though Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down -- but it was the other way around, don't you see? **Peter** betrayed your mother and father -- **Sirius** tacked **Peter** down---"___

_"THAT'S NOT TRUE! HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!" ___

_Sirius shook his head slowly, his sunken eyes suddenly bright. "Harry..." he croaked. "I as good as killed them... I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment - persuaded them to use him as a Secret-Keeper instead of me... I'm to blame, I know it... The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies... I realized what Peter must've done...what I'd done..." His voice broke and he turned away, almost shaking.___

_"Enough of this," I decided, shaking my head as I turned back to Ron, staring him down. "There's one way to prove what really happened. Ron, **give me that rat**."___

_"What are you going to do to him if I give him to you?"___

_"Force him to show himself," I told him. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."___

_The boy hesitated for a few more moments, before, finally, holding the rat out to me and I grabbed it. Peter began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head."___

_"Ready, Sirius?" I had asked him, watching as he retrieved Snape's wand from his belt and walked over, his eyes on Peter's struggling Animagus form.___

_He nodded, "Together?"___

_"I think so," I agreed, holding Peter tightly in one hand while pointing my wand with the other. "On the count of three. One -- two -- THREE!"___

_There was no real designated word for this spell; the wand's primary purpose was to focus its casters will on the proper object. In this case, we wanted Peter to be forced out of his Animagus form and into his true form, so that was what the blue light that burst out of both our wands to engulf Pettigrew, did.___

_A moment later, the transformation was complete, and Peter was crouched down on the ground, cringing and ringing his hands. He hadn't grown at all; in fact I wouldn't be surprised if he'd shrunk... He really looked nothing like the childhood friend I remembered. It looked like spending the last twelve years as a rat had changed his physique to make him almost **look** like a rat in his human form... His hair was no longer light brown, it had now lost all its color, and he had a bald spot atop his head. He'd obviously lost a lot of weight over a short amount of time. ___

_I waited for a moment, to see if he would calm down or if his panic would reach new levels, but decided to speak when I saw him look at Harry, who was standing in front of the exit. "Hello, Peter," I began, keeping my tone painfully pleasant, "long time, no see."___

_"S--Sirius... R--Remus..." he replied in a shaky, squeaky voice, again linking him all the more strongly to his Animagus form. He hadn't been like this in school, had he? "My friends... my old friends..."___

_I saw Sirius raise his wand, and quickly grabbed his wrist, giving him a warning look. ___

_Then I turned back to Pettigrew, continuing in the same, casually pleasant tone. "We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed---"___

_"Remus," he gasped, leaning towards me, his small eyes pleading. "You don't believe him, do you...? He tried to kill me, Remus..."___

_"So we've heard," I continued, unable to keep a certain amount of coldness from seeping into my voice. "I'd like to clear up one or two matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so---"___

_"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew had squeaked suddenly, pointing at Sirius with his middle finger, because his index finger was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too... You've got to help me, Remus..."___

_"No one's going to try to kill you until we've sorted a few things out."___

_"Sorted things out?" the rat-like-wizard squealed, looking around again, wildly; taking in that the window was still boarded and the door was therefore the only exit. "I **knew** he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"___

_I shook my head, faking confusion. "You knew that Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban? When no ones ever done it before?"___

_"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"___

_Sirius had started laughing then, a horrible, completely mirthless laugh that made my heart ache for his losses. "Voldemort teach **me** tricks?" he raised an eyebrow when the traitor flinched. "What, scared to hear you old master's name? I don't blame you, Peter. His lot isn't very happy with you, are they?"___

_"Don't know what you mean, Sirius..." Pettigrew muttered, breathing faster then every, his face covered in nervous sweat.___

_"You haven't been hiding from **me** for twelve years. You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter... They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them... I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think that the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information...and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban did they? There are still plenty of them out here, biding there time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways... If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter---"___

_"Don't know...what you're talking about..." Pettigrew insisted, wiping his face on his sleeve before he looked up at me. "You don't believe this--this madness, Remus---"___

_"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat."___

_"Innocent, but scared!" he squealed at me, shaking his head. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban --- the spy, Sirius Black!"___

_Sirius's face contorted to a mask of utter rage and he seemed to almost growl out his response. "How dare you? Me, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than me? But you, Peter -- I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us... me and Remus... and James..." ___

_Pettigrew wiped his face again as he replied, "Me, a spy... must be out of your mind...never...don't know how you can say such a---"___

_"Lily and James only made you their Secret Keeper because I suggested it," Sirius hissed, his fury scaring Pettigrew back a step. "I thought it was the perfect plan... a bluff... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talent-less thing like you...It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."_

* * *

**_Woodlands in the foothills of Caradhas _**

"In--In Mordor?" Merry repeated, eyes wide.

Everyone else stared on in silent horror, for a long moment, before Gandalf sighed.

"Then they have aligned themselves with Sauron?"

Harry nodded, "As far as we can tell..."

"So Sauron now has an army of Dark Wizards at his disposal?"

"Yes."

Gandalf shook his head, "Then the situation has exacerbated considerably..." after a moment's consideration he rose to his feet. "It would be best if were on our way. Timing will undoubtedly be of the essence... That is if you are well enough, Frodo?" he inquired, watching the Hobbit with concern.

"I'm fine..." Frodo nodded, "That Pepper...Pepper…?"

"Pepper-Up Potion," Harry supplied, drawing another nod and a small smile from the Hobbit.

"That Pepper-Up Potion works wonders."

"But weren't your harmed in the fall?" Aragorn inquired, frowning in concern, as he looked the Halfling over for injuries with the Healer's eyes his foster father had taught him to see with.

"I...I don't think so..." Frodo frowned, "I remember hurting my arm and leg, but they seem fine now..." He demonstrated by moving both his left leg and his right arm around a bit.

"You'd sprained your knee and broken your wrist," Harry told him, "And you were fairly well bruised all over. I took care of it." When no one replied to that, simply remained staring at him in shock, he shrugged. "Different forms of magic, remember?" he offered Gandalf.

"There is a spell for broken bones?" Gandalf frowned, "I know of no such art... I can encourage healing, but not force it..."

"The same is true with the Elves," Legolas offered, and Aragorn nodded.

Harry shrugged. "Different forms of magic. We use it for just about everything... I wouldn't recommend too much movement, you'll probably tire more quickly then you might think, Frodo. The Pepper-Up will keep you going for a few hours, but once it wears off, you'll start to feel some of the bruises." He rose to his feet, waving his hand, apparently to make the three tents disappear, along with every other sign that this had been a campsite of sorts. Aside from the rocks and logs there were sitting on around the fire, everything else was gone. "Now, where to?"

"You're coming with us?" Gandalf inquired, though he seemed only mildly surprised.

"Of course we are," Camthalion replied, shaking his head.

His twin also nodded. "Do you think we'd come all this way just to tell you that you might be fending off an army of Wizards soon?"

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "We wish to help, if you will allow it?"

Gandalf nodded, "We would appreciate it, greatly."

"So," Harry smiled, "where to?"

The Fellowship was silent for several moments before Gandalf finally relented with a sigh, "Moria."

Harry blinked, his smile fading slightly. "Excuse me?"

"We have already attempted to climb over Caradhras, but Saruman has made the route impassable, and the Southern Passage is being watched by the Dunland Crebain. The Mines of Moria are our only option."

"The Gap of Rohan?" Harry suggested frowning, and then he shook his head, "No that's even closer to Saruman's realm of influence if not within it."

The Istari nodded, watching the other wizard carefully.

"When was the last time you visited Moria, Gandalf?"

"Some centuries past, why?"

"When last I was there, the Dwarves were mining very deeply into the roots of Barazinbar, too deeply... I warned them of what slept beneath them, and cautioned that they not mine near it, regardless of how much mithril they may find near it... I have no way of knowing if they listened."

Gandalf nodded, fully understanding what the Elf-friend was not saying. "I understand, but it may be our best chance of covering that distance."

After several more moments of silence, Harry nodded his features grim. "Very well... I can take us to the West Gate, but unfortunately I cannot transport a group of this size to the other side..."

"Magically?" Gandalf inquired, frowning. He too could disappear and reappear places at will, but it was a complicated art, and one he had never attempted to try over long distance, and certainly not with other people.

"Yes," Harry nodded, motioning over for all of them to rise, while he did so himself. "Are we ready to go?" he asked looking around. After Frodo had managed to fold up and pack the blanket he'd transfigured for him, and when he received nods all around, he nodded. "All right, watch me." With all eyes on him, he brought his hands together in a loud clap.

And at the exact same time, with a louder "POP!" they Fellowship plus three were gone, and the Bluebell Flames went out.

* * *

**_Remus's Dreams, Lothlórien _**

_It had been entirely his fault. He was sure of it.___

_If only he had taken the Wolfsbane Potion, instead of running off -- on the NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON! -- then Sirius would free and Pettigrew would be where he should be.___

_He could remember waking up in the Forest, painfully. ___

_It wasn't painful just because of the transformation, which in and of itself was painful. It was also painful because he knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that something terrible had happened. And that was before he'd returned to the bleak expressions of his coworkers and semi-fearful expressions of his students.___

_He'd transformed while tied to a young boy and the traitor. If he'd torn Pettigrew to pieces he could live with it, but not Ron...___

_And Harry and Hermione were only just behind them. ___

_Oh, he could remember being more afraid then he'd been those torturous few hours it had taken him to find his way back to school grounds, where he was met by Dumbledore and taken straight to Madam Pomfrey.___

_It wasn't as bad as it could have been... but it was close.___

_Because of him, everyone, well other then Dumbledore and the Order still thought that Sirius was guilty of the crimes he was framed for. The rest of the world is still waiting with baited breaths for him to be caught and taken before the Dementors, for the Kiss that he almost received that night, only to be saved by Harry, who was also almost Kissed! ...Only to be saved by himself...___

_Merlin... That had taken some explaining. Who would've thought that the School Board would agree to give a student, no matter how promising, a time turner so that she could take several classes at once?___

_"You will have to explain this notion to me... Harry has already tried, but I can't imagine being able to change the past like that." ___

_Remus spun around, to come face to face with the Elven Lady that he knew as both a powerful sorceress, and Harry's foster mother. "Wh-What?"___

_"This time turner... Does it truly allow you to change the past?"___

_"No... no--Well, yes, you could. But you're not allowed to." Remus explained. "It could change too many things that you have no way of knowing about." He probably didn't need to go on, but he found something so logical almost soothing to talk about. "I mean... Say you had a time turner that you could use to go back to before your daughter was capture by Orcs. And you could therefore stop that. If you did, would your son-in-law have still adopted the Heir of Isilduir?"___

_Galadriel frowned, "Perhaps..."___

_"Perhaps not..." he countered.___

_"You are right," the Lady of Light nodded, "We have no way of knowing. And so we should not try? And therefore we should not let the past hold us in its grasp, we should look past it, learn from it, to make a better future... For we cannot change the past, but the future is ever-changing."___

_Remus nodded somehow certain that he was no longer the one teaching anything. "Why...Why did I remember all that?"___

_"They are the memories from your past that you remember most clearly. Some you will not let go due to pain, some for affection. Those that you remember for love, happiness and joy make you stronger. Those you remember for pain weaken you."___

_"But...I can't just **forget** them..."___

_"No, but you cannot dwell upon them either."___

_The werewolf frowned.___

_"You must be strong in order to overcome your curse; I can only help so much. The rest must come from your own heart and mind. If either is weak due to fear or pain, then you will fail."___

_"I will not fail... I... I can't..."___

_Galadriel smiled softly, "Then you have decided? You wish to be free of the curse?"_

* * *

**_The West Gate of Moria_**

During the Second Age of the Sun the Dwarves had used the western entrance of Moria to trade with the Elves of Eregion. But near the end of that age, when all of Eregion was being laid to waste by Sauron's forces, the Dwarves sealed their gates and ceased all trade and almost all interaction with the outside world. From then on, it was considered by most to be dark place due to its secrecy, for the people of the outside world had no way of knowing what occurred within, nor who was in control; the Dwarves, or the Orcs they'd been fighting against for so long?

The West Gate reflected its prolonged barrenness. It was a dark dreary place, the waters outside made it even more so, seeming the perfect resting place to monsters of any sort.

The "POP!" of disapperation that resounded along the rock wall and the dark waters surface seemed unnaturally loud, surrounded by so much gloom.

"Wh--Where are we?" Merry asked, before hurrying over to Harry. "How did you do that?"

Harry offered a strained smile, "Magic." Then he quickly moved around Merry to the solid, natural wall of stone, raising his wand. "_Lunas Lumos._" He began to scan the wall with the beam of silvery light that was shining out of his wand, and a few moments later, he found what he was looking for; the Gate. "_Aperio_." The silvery light left his wand to surround the Gate, making it visible in broad daylight. Harry shrugged, "The West Gate."

Gandalf nodded, quickly reading the Elvish inscription above the door. "It reads; 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

"What do you suppose that means?" Pippin asked.

"Oh, it's quite simple really." Gandalf replied, nodding to himself. "If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open." He looked over at Harry, and the rest of the Fellowship followed his example, turning to the wizard who was now lying back against one of the boulders by the Gate, obviously somewhat tired.

"What?" he asked them, meeting their gazes before glancing at the door and then meeting Gandalf's gaze. "Don't look at me! I only came here twice, and both times through the East Gate. I only went all the way through the Mines and out this Gate once. I've never gone in this way, so I don't know what the password is..."

Gandalf sighed.

* * *

**_Lothlórien _**__

_"I do."_

Remus's eyes snapped open, in time to see the Lady of Light step back from her Mirror, before collapsing backward into her husband's arms, clearly exhausted.

"It is done..." she murmured, before closing her eyes and giving into the call of sleep.

* * *

**_End Chapter 17: Mae Govannen: Part II_**

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**Translations******

_Mae Govannen_ - Well-met

_Lunas Lumos_ - Lighting spell for moonlight. (Hey, they made up enough new versions for the movies, I know, but I really couldn't resist.)

_Aperio_ - to uncover, lay bare, to reveal, to open what was shut

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**Response to Reviews:**** If you wish to view them, they will be posted on the Yahoo site. Reviews are still very much appreciated, and will influence how much attention I pay to this story. But several people have pointed out recently that doesn't take kindly to lengthy review responses, so I won't be posting them here.**

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**AN****: Hi everyone!******

**Sorry about the long wait! I really didn't mean to make you wait that long, I just got stuck on several parts... I'd actually written farther then this, where they were actually in Moria, but I decided that was too fast, and they needed more time around the campfire...so that meant a lot of rewriting... ******

**Then my computer crashed. I really, REALLY, HATE it when it does that…******

**Anyway, I'm going back to school tomorrow, so updates will probably be scarce, but I'll try to be more reasonable. Depends on the workload, really.******

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**Oh! The results haven't come out for the Crossover Awards yet, we're currently dealing with a lot of tiebreakers, but I'd like to thank the people who nominated me again. THANK YOU!!! :-D******

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**And thank you to everyone reviewed!******

**Reviews are ALWAYS welcomed! And they really do help, so (HINT!!!) please REVIEW!!!******

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**Bye! ******

**Jess S**


	19. Chapter 18: Moria

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling; Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

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* * *

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There and Back Again

**Chapter 18: Moria**

By Jess S

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* * *

Inside the West Gate of Moria _**

Having just saved Frodo from the creature of the lake before the entrance to the caves, they stood watching as door collapsed behind them. As the rumbling from the collapsing doorway died down and the air slowly stilled allowing dust to settle, only the harsh panting of the members of the Fellowship struggling to catch their breath, could be heard.

After a few moments, and shook his head, though none of them could see him in the relentless darkness that surrounded them. He drew his wand and summoned light with a simple, "_Lumos._"

The Fellowship all looked at him as light emerged from the tip of his wand.

A moment later, Gandalf nodded, summoning light from the crystal atop his staff as well. "We now have but one choice," he told them all in a resigned tone. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things then Orcs in the deep places of the world..." the Istari paused while moving onward across the hall, carefully leading them around the long dead Dwarven guards that had once guarded this gate. "Quietly now," he cautioned as he led them up the steps across from the exit, to make their way down into the mines. "It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that out presence may go unnoticed."

* * *

**_Lothlórien _**

Remus shook his head as he looked towards the sinking sun, waiting for the moon to rise in the distance. He should have known that it couldn't be that easy...

_The lady shook her head sadly, offering a compassionate smile. "No, there are still two more steps. And they will be painful." She sighed at his cautious expression. "I am afraid you must undergo the transformations one last time, with nothing to dull the pain or aid you in maintaining control."_

He'd tried to argue that that was too dangerous, but she'd merely shaken her head.

_"You cannot allow yourself to believe that, my young friend." She reached out to gently push his chin up, thereby forcing him to meet her gaze. "You must have faith in the Valar, and most importantly; in yourself. You must believe that you can be free of this curse. You must break free of it by sheer willpower. You now have that power. But do you have the strength of will for it?"_

He certainly hoped so...

The werewolf sighed. At least the other members of the Order were positioned around him, to ensure that he didn't harm anyone...One less thing to worry about...

'**_It is time..._**' the Lady of Light's voice echoed through his head.

He turned his attention back to the horizon, to see his greatest fear rising. It was what he saw whenever he came face to face with a boggart, one of the clues that fate had offered to Hermione Granger -- what seemed like _ages_ ago -- of his true nature...

Which he could now feel taking over...

Muscles stretching, straining, tearing, and re-knitting over expanding bones that were snapping into different shapes and positions even as some grew and others shrunk to fit his new form.

It was happening slower than it usually did... his mind -- already numbed by the tremendous pain his body was registering -- could actually follow and note the various steps in the procedure!

He felt his face extend outward, his nose and jaw stretching to take on their new form while his eyes and ears repositioned themselves and their angles of perspective.

He felt a tremendous pain in his backside, as his tailbone was forced to grow outward and actually become the bones for a tail, some flesh growing along with it.

Then he felt a strange -- almost itching, but not quite -- sensation, as fur exploded out of his flesh to cover his entire body.

Then the ancient power brought forth by the full moon settled and he collapsed to the ground in his wolf form, utterly exhausted...but in complete control!

"The procedure is half complete now," the Lady of Lothlórien told him, smiling as she and threw a large blanket over his trembling form. "This will be the last time this occurs. After the moonset, you should have complete control over your transformation."

'_What if I don't?!_' the werewolf couldn't help but wonder, a touch of hysteria touching his tired mind.

Then the Lady's gentle mental touch washed over his mind again, soothing away the pain, shock and doubt, leaving only a renewed sense of strength and hope in its wake. '_There is always hope, my young friend. Never forget that, for it is our most powerful weapons against the forces of Evil._'

After a moment's thought, the canine offered a tired nod, before curling up under the blanket she'd offered him to wait out the night.

Even his enhanced hearing didn't give his tired brain awareness when the elleth left the grove with the graceful, skilled feet of her people.

**_

* * *

Somewhere in the Mines of Moria _**

"It's awful dark down here..." Pippin commented as he and his comrades continued on their way through the mines.

"Of course it is," Merry replied tiredly, only sparing half of his attention for his cousin, and keeping the rest of it for the rocky, uneven, awkward path beneath his hairy feet. "We're under ground."

"It's never this dark back home..."

"Of course it isn't. We don't live under a mountain."

"But we live underground!"

"There's a bit of a difference between a hobbit hole and the Mines of Moria, Master Took," Harry offered with a gentle smile, while negotiating his way through the underground passage with grace similar to the three Elves in their party, but he was obviously much more at ease. He didn't like it here, but he could remain relatively indifferent to it while they were traveling; Legolas Thranduilion and Rúmil and Camthalion Míriel obviously did _not_ like the mines at all. "Just like there's a difference between the Misty Mountains and the Shire. I'm rather certain the cold we experience on Caradhras never touches Hobbiton, and the snow is never quite so deep."

"Of course it is not!" Pippin agreed, nodding empathetically, "T'would be unnatural!"

"This _is_ unnatural..." The Prince of Mirkwood offered quietly, while continuing to eye their surrounding suspiciously and keep the same pace as his companions at the same time. "Varda has so little influence here...I should not like to live in a place that both the King and Queen of the Valar so readily abandon."

"I agree that there is no natural light here," Boromir offered curiously, following the line of conversation, and fortunately cutting in before the irritated dwarf behind him could begin his rant. "But how has Manwë forsaken this place?"

"Manwë Sulímo is the Lord of the Air, the Wind Lord." Gandalf offered pleasantly, apparently pleased at the conversation that had sprung up from the previously all-too-quiet party. "His domain is air itself; clean air, the sky, the wind, and that which dwells therein; storms, birds, song..."

"None of which exist here." Legolas agreed with a nod.

After a few moments of thought and silence, Pippin shrugged and smiled. "Well, I don't know about the air, and storms, and sky, but we could bring song in here."

"_No_," Gandalf stopped suddenly to look back at the hobbit, shaking his head, "We must move through the mines with the utmost caution and diligence. We do not want any who remain here to become aware of our presence..." he sighed as he turned back around to continue leading the way, "As I told you earlier, as foul as Orcs and Goblins are, there are monsters far more fierce and foul in the Middle Earth's depths..."

Thus, that all too silent silence continued to hang over the fellowship of twelve, as they made their way deeper into the nadir of Moria.

**_

* * *

The Tower of Orthanc, Isengard _**

"If you wish to throw several of your followers on a journey that will take at least a week -- perhaps more depending on how much you can enhance their alacrity with magic -- and one that serves no purpose, be my guest. But it is truly a waste of time. The Balrog will destroy the entire group, and then it will surrender the Ring to the King of Agmar. It would never cooperate with you or your followers, so why bother? The Ring could never be yours."

"I don't care about your bloody Ring, I want your lord to win, so that he may keep his word, and assist in the war on my world." The Heir of Slytherin retorted, almost reverting to parseltongue due to his ill-concealed anger. "There is always the possibility that this group will make it through the mines, and your army isn't anywhere near ready to march. If they make it through, a dozen of my Death Eaters will be waiting for them on the other side."

The rouge Istari shook his head, offering the younger dark wizard a sadistically benevolent smile, "You must do what you believe to be right, of course, Lord Voldemort."

The Dark Lord nodded, his demonically red eyes flashing, before turning and leaving the Istari's study, to make his way to the room his Death Eaters would be waiting for him in. That was one reason he needed to leave this place, and soon. He could not stand that old bastard. The white-haired, white-robed Istari reminded him far too much of Dumbledore. Of course, Dumbledore would never join the forces of Darkness; he'd proven that long ago. Yet Saruman had many of the attributes that Voldemort had long hated in the old muggle lover.

He cut his displeased thought process short as he finally reached the assembly hall that Saruman has so _graciously_ allowed them to utilize. It took numerous wards and anti-eavesdropping charms to make the location private, but it was large and comfortably furnished, so it was not quite as bad as it could be, he supposed.

All of his followers bowed deeply as he passed, careful not to actually watch him pass. It was something he always looked for. He would not allow signs of disrespect in any form, even one as small as not bowing deeply enough to their lord and master.

The Heir of Salazar Slytherin smiled coldly as he reached his throne, forcing a blank expression to his face as he turned to sit down before giving his followers leave to rise.

Not all of his Death Eaters had been brought to this world, but most of the best were here. All of the ones here were utterly loyal, to be sure. Therefore, he felt no qualms about trusting them to do what they had pledged themselves, their lives, families, bodies, and souls for, at some point or another. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he didn't keep a close eye on them.

"Lucius, report," he ordered, watching as the tall, regal blonde stepped forward at his bidding.

"My lord," the patriarch of the Malfoy family bowed deeply before continuing. "The rate of production for the Uruk-hai army is rapidly increasing; soon the Orcs may be able to produce several hundred per week. These Uruk-hai will be similar to their assemblers, but stronger, faster and smarter."

"But not too smart?"

"Of course, my lord," the younger wizard confirmed, bowing again. "They will be the perfect soldiers, nothing more."

"Good..." Voldemort remained quiet for a moment, knowing that the eldest Malfoy had finished his report, but enjoying the knowledge that the silence made even the stately man before him uneasy. Then he continued with a nod, waving Malfoy back into his seat before addressing the other Death Eaters. "It had come to my attention that there is a group of do-gooders causing quite a bit of trouble for our allies. They are on a quest to destroy our ally's most powerful weapon, and should they succeed our allies will not be able to win this war. Therefore, they must not succeed. Who will see to this?"

After a few moments of uneasy silence, several Death Eaters rose, bowing their heads and awaiting their lord's recognition.

The Dark Lord scrutinized the group carefully, measuring against one another and his own experience, before coming to a decision. "Very well. All of you will go, under Dolohov's command."

All bowed, Antonin Dolohov most deeply of all, "My lord."

"You are to capture as many members of this group as possible, eliminate only those that may be considered a serious threat to us on their own." Voldemort looked at the man he'd appointed as the group's leader, "Do not disappoint me, Antonin."

"I shall not, my lord."

"Go."

**_

* * *

Somewhere in the Mines of Moria _**

The Mines of Moria were not kind to its trekkers, which was easily demonstrated for what could very well be the hundredth time since the Fellowship had entered the Mine three days before in the stairs that they were climbing. Said stairs were so steep that once could very well mistake them for a cliff, and with all of the loose steps they encountered on the way up, a rather perilous one.

"Pippin!" Merry's annoyance at his cousin when the other Hobbit slipped due to one such step was not at the other's clumsiness really, just at the fact that Peregrin Took had managed to find at least twice the number of perils as every other member of the Fellowship combined.

"Sorry!" the other Hobbit muttered sheepishly as they continued onward.

Merry didn't respond, choosing instead to simply struggle onward, hoping they would soon reach the top of the stairs that had been in sight already for quite some time.

As luck would have it, Gandalf, who had continued leading them this entire way, as Harry was still unsure about directions in this dark maze, had just reached the top. Luck was not with them when it came to the wizard's previously confident recollection.

"I have no memory of this place..." the Istari murmured, glancing back at Harry as the other wizard came up behind him also looking around.

After a moment the foster-son of the Lady of the Golden Wood also shook his head, "Nor do I..." he offered an apologetic smile after glancing back at the others, then he moved forward, "We should set up camp," he suggested quietly, "everyone is weary. Perhaps a little rest will do us all some good."

The Grey Wizard nodded, "Yes, it might. Moreover, there is no good in wandering onward if we do not know the way. We could be lost in here for years."

"Years that we do not have."

"Yes," the Istari nodded again, before turning around to look over the rest of the Fellowship, which had just managed to finish assembling not far behind them. "We shall rest here for a time."

"Are we lost?" Pippin asked.

Gandalf sighed, moving on towards a boulder where he could study all three tunnels, choosing not to answer as he saw a small amount of but all too apparent fear in the others eyes. He nodded his approval as Harry called up his strange blue flames, quickly dispelling the coolness that was common so far under ground, before transfiguring a rock into a teakettle, filling it with water from his wand, and setting it to levitate over the fire, to warm said water. Then he transfigured a few more rocks into small, clean teacups and accepted the pack of tea leaves that Camthalion had just taken out of his pack, to sprinkle some into each cup.

The other members of the Fellowship sighed, shaking their heads as they gathered around the magical fire, sitting back against hard stone to rest their weary bones.

After a few minutes of silence, Pippin sighed, turning to his cousin to repeat his earlier question, "Are we lost?"

Harry shook his head, as Merry whispered back, "No."

"I think we are."

The other Hobbit shushed loudly at his cousin before replying, "Gandalf's thinking!"

There was another long moment's silence before Pippin spoke up again. "Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

"Well so am I, but there's not much I can do about that..."

"Do you think Harry could?"

"What?"

"Make food? With magic?"

The wizard suppressed a groan as both Hobbits made their way towards him after a moment's silence. "May I help you?"

"Could you make food like that?" Pippin asked, pointing to the kettle that was floating above the fire, still not hot enough to whistle.

Harry sighed, shaking his head tiredly. "What kind of food?" He shook his head again when the Hobbit's seemed to need to really think about this and continued before they could reply. "Never mind..." he brought his wand out again, levitating quite a few more rocks and pebbles over to him. Taking a metal plate out of his gear, he the pebbles drop down onto it, and then closed his eyes and turning his power inward, willing a strong memory involving food to appear.

_**Flashback **_

_"Elerossë, iapsa!" Elerossë, the food is ready! Ránëwén called down to her husband, from the window of their talon. _

_Harry looked up with a smile, before nodding to the Galadhrim he'd been talking to and then making his way up the stairs to his home, where his wife was setting their midday meal out on the table. "It looks wonderful, melda nin..." He murmured, coming up behind her to pull her back against him, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek before releasing her._

_She turned around, favoring him with a bright, loving smile. "Dan ilau ná, verno nin," But of course it does, my husband, the violet-eyed elf replied, "Would you expect any less? After all..." a slight smirk graced her lips, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I'm quite a bit different from the other heri...or so you keep telling me..."_

_"Uma..." he agreed with a nod, leaning down slightly to catch her lips with his._

_They had been married for a little over a year now, having celebrated their first anniversary and the numerous congratulations it stipulated only a few days past. The last few months seemed so much fuller, more vivid, more genuine, more alive, more everything then the millennia he'd spent without his soul mate here on Middle Earth. He found it hard to believe that he'd actually forced himself to remain apart from her for so long. He could hardly believe he had actually managed it._

_He loved everything about her; the way she could mold her body so perfectly into his, the way her eyes seemed to contain only the finest shades of the twilight hours, the sound of her voice, the way she could approach just about anything with reason, and so much more..._

_When he had been a child, he'd never thought he would be able to feel something like this. He never thought that one day he might actually feel complete. The Dursley's had hated him so, and the 'love' that they showed one another had so often seemed to be overshadowed by greed, or disgust (when he was near), or hate, or something, that he'd often believed love to be just another fictional part of those fairly tales that his Aunt had bought his cousin a long time ago, only to have them thrown out in a fit of temper. He had rescued the storybook, and had kept it, simply studying the pictures until he learned to read in school, then reading one or two of the stories every night, embracing the fantasy world that they'd created. Discovering his own Wizarding heritage and the world of magic had helped to partially cure him of that cynicism, but Violet deserved most of the credit for truly curing him, any additional credit could be divvied up among the people of the Golden Wood and perhaps the Weasley's as well._

_He loved her though, in the same way all of those heroes and heroines he'd read about so long ago loved their partners; utterly and completely; body, mind, heart, spirit and soul..._

_"Umm..." Ránëwén laughed quietly, her eyes sparkling as she slipped gracefully out of his embrace and moved around the table to claim her seat on the other side. "It's a bit early for that, melda nin."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow, taking the seat across from her. "You think so?" he smiled, the merriment in her eyes also shining in his as he picked up one of the soft, flaky biscuits, still warm from the oven that she'd set on the table, not bothering to break it open or add butter to alter its already superb flavor. "I don't know...you certainly didn't think so a few months ago."_

_"Well, I'm a lady," his wife returned, smirking slightly before taking a bite out of the biscuit she'd just picked up. After she finished chewing and swallowing the sample of her own baking the smirk had returned, "Doesn't that mean I'm entitled to capriciousness, frivolity, and vacillation?" _

_Harry laughed, wisely choosing to take a bite of his own biscuit and savor its unique taste rather then answer and risk his wife's wrath at accepting the generalization... She had always detested generalizations..._

_**End of Flashback **_

"Master Harry?"

Harry looked up, blinking back tears as the memory dissipated, to look at the two Hobbits, who were now watching him with concern, as were several other members of their party. "Sorry," he muttered, shaking his head before waving his wand over the pebble covered plate and muttering the charms to transfigure said pebbles into the softy, flaky, honey-flavored biscuits that had been one of his wife's favorite foods for as long as he could remember. He then noticed the faint whistling noise coming from the fire, and turned slightly to see that Samwise had already taken the pot off the fire and was halfway through filling all of the teapots with the liquid. "Thank you," he nodded to the Hobbit, before offering the plate to the other two, "Would you mind passing this around?"

Merry shook his head, taking the plate and quickly making a round of the campfire, to offer said food to those present. All accepted, and there were five biscuits on the plate still when he came back.

Harry took the plate, nodding over towards Frodo and Gandalf, and waving his wand at three of the teacups, making them levitate over to him. "I'll take theirs over to them," he rose once both Hobbits had managed to choose their biscuit, and quickly made his way over to the other wizard and the Ring bearer, carefully avoiding meeting either of the Míriel twins' concerned eyes.

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us," Gandalf was telling Frodo as Harry reached them, watching the younger being carefully even as he noted the other wizard's approach, accepting a biscuit and one of the floating teacups immediately.

Frodo smiled, nodding his thanks as he also accepted a biscuit and a cup of tea, taking a slow sip of the soothing liquid before tasting the small treat that had come with it.

"There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil." The Istari continued after he'd finished his biscuit and had drained half of his teacup. "Bilbo was _meant_ to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to have it. And that is a happy thought."

The Hobbit frowned, shaking his head. "How?"

"If the Ring was meant to come to you, Frodo, someone that could resist its evil," Harry offered with a smile, "Then there's a chance that its end and Sauron's destruction are also fated."

Frodo look down thoughtfully, while finishing the last of his snack and the tea that had come with it.

"Ah!" Gandalf drew the attention of everyone in their group over to them after a few moments of comfortable, companionable silence. When they looked at him, he nodded towards one of the passages with a smile. "It's that way."

"He's remembered!" Merry smiled as he rose, going over towards the wizards.

Harry also smiled, waiving his wand to turn all of the empty teacups and the kettle back into rocks and to douse the bluebell flames he'd set only a little over an hour before.

"No," Gandalf shook his head while setting the rock that he had been drinking an Elven tea from only moments before down on the ground, and proceeding down the passage he'd selected a moment before, once again using his staff for light, while the others used torches, and Harry his wand. "But the air doesn't smell quite so foul down here. When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose!"

**_

* * *

Lothlórien _**

The air smelled strange here. It was clearer, cleaner, fresher then anything he had ever experience on his world of birth, where Muggle industry had long polluted the cities, and poverty governed the countryside. It was the first thing he had noticed about this place when he'd come here. As a werewolf, his sense of smell was greatly enhanced; the magical possession that linked his human soul with a wolf's soul was very old, and therefore very powerful. In the millennia since it had come into being -- however that had happened -- it had become stronger, powerful, bordering on demonic...and that was how most people thought of it.

Remus Lupin's heart sank. He had clearly passed out after returning to his human form, as he was liable to do from time to time; now he was awakening as he always did, with the wolf-demon's stupefying senses.

Birds were singing. His mind knew exactly where dozens of them were, just from the sound of their distantly chirped song, and the whistle of the wind in the leaves.

The ground was wet, and oddly rough. That was because of the transformation; his skin, bones and muscles were still incredibly sensitive, which made his mind very aware of the incredible amount of pain his body still felt, even though when compared to the terrible pain it echoed it was nothing, not even a shadow of what he it felt like to transform from man to wolf and back again.

He could taste some of his own blood on his exceedingly discerning tongue; that too was common after a transformation.

The sense of smell...

The sense of sound...

The sense of taste...

The sense of touch...

And...

He opened his eyes, hurriedly closing them as iris's still set for nocturnal hunting allowed far too much of the morning sun's light to stab into his brain like the teeth of the werewolf that had curse him so long ago.

He was still a monster. A demon. A werewolf.

'**_No..._**' the heavenly, gentle voice of Harry's foster-mother echoed through his aching brain, dousing the waves of fiery pain, uncertainty and misery with healing waves of assurance, wisdom and support. '**_You were never a demon. And the demon that was a part of you since childhood is gone._**'

The wizard sat up quickly, ignoring how much the move pained him in order to open his eyes and turn to stare at the golden haired elf that was kneeling down beside him to wrap a thick, warm robe around his hurting form. "What?"

"The curse has been lifted," Galadriel told him with an eminent smile. "You are free of it, and of any pain it was previously able to send with the light of the moon."

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide with disbelief. Then he shook his head, "But I'm still... smell... hear...I can still--"

The elleth also shook her head, smiling gently. "Over the years your body has adapted to be better able to handle the transformation you endured every time the moon was high and full. Those changes cannot be undone. They will remain so long as your body and magic can endure them."

"So...that's it?" He asked, his hazel eyes finally taking on some small shade of hope.

"Not quite."

'_Of course not..._' he thought, suppressing the urge to scream in pain in frustration, then suppressing the urge to wince when the telepathic lady wrapped her arms around him, gently enfolding him in a comforting embrace.

"There is nothing wrong," she assured him, while sending more of her power into him, seeking to heal any serious damage that remained.

"What is it then?"

"You have not lost the ability to transform."

Remus frowned, "I haven't?" Wasn't that the whole point of this?

"No. Instead, you have gained the ability to do so at will, and remain yourself during the transformation."

The wizard was silent for several long moments, frowning. Then he nodded, "Like an Animagus?"

"That is what Elerossë called it, yes."

For several moments there was silence, and then the sound of Remus Lupin -- once a werewolf and now an animagus -- falling back against the ground in a dead faint echoed around the clearing.

**_

* * *

The Chamber of Mazarbul, Mines of Moria _**

"Here lays Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria..." Gandalf sighed, shaking his head as Gimli continued to mourn his fallen cousin. "He is dead then, it is as I feared..." After a moment of sad silence, the Istari moved over towards one of the skeletons by the crypt, handing his hat and staff to Pippin before gently relieving the long dead Dwarven scribe of his burden.

"We must move on," Legolas murmured to mainly Aragorn, but they all heard his insistence, and agreed. "We cannot linger..."

"They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums... drums in the deep..." Gandalf read from the book, his tone saddened, a deep frown marring his aged face as he turned to the tomb's next old page. He shook his head at what came next, before reading it allowed. "We cannot get out. A _Shadow_ moved in the dark. We cannot get out..." the Istari looked up, his wise eyes cheerless as he finished reading the words that were quickly scrawled down on the last page with writing, which bore a number of spots of dried blood. "They are coming..."

Every member of the Fellowship turned in shock and fear as a loud clang resounded from behind the Istari, who had to spin around completely in order to stare at the guilty form of Peregrin Took, and watch in horror as the Dwarven skeleton that had been resting on the side of the well immediately behind him was dragged down, undoubtedly by the weight of the bucked that had been there only a moment before.

Pippin winced as an even louder clang resounded through the mine from its even deeper depths.

After several moments of tense silence, the Fellowship relaxed slightly, releasing sighs of relief.

Gandalf slammed the old book shut, setting it back down by its owner's remains before storming the short distance over to the Hobbit and snatching his hat and staff away from him. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!"

Pippin looked down shamefacedly, prudently choosing to remain silent.

_DOOOM!_

Everyone froze again, meeting their companions eyes which were like mirrors in that they reflected the same, complete emotion back at them; one of fear, one of dread, one of _doom_. Some would say that the aftermath of a battle is the worst part of war, others the battle itself, and still others the moments before. All viewpoints are easy enough to understand, to simplify it; those who hate the aftermath hate the carnage, those that hate the battle itself hate the danger, and those that hate the time before the battle hate the fear. That fear is common to all, at least to all that can die, for they know that they will leave this world, and while they may believe they know what will happen afterwards they can never be one hundred percent sure, and even then they may not believe themselves to be ready. Fear of any sort is a powerful weapon, and fear of the unknown is the most powerful of all...

That was the fear that they felt now as they looked around, hearing the unwelcome sound of the drums echo from the depths of Moria up to their ears.

_DOOM! DOOM! _

That was the fear that was in Sam's voice as his eyes felt upon his friend and master's sword. Having grown up listening to Bilbo Baggins' tell of his adventure beyond the Shire, Samwise Gamgee knew what it meant when Sting's inner light revealed itself, a deep icy blue luminosity in the darkness. "Frodo, your sword!" he gasped, watching as the other Hobbit looked down at the sword, drawing it enough to release the blade's warning glow, before meeting his eyes fearfully.

_DOOM! DOOM! DOOM!_

As different sounds became clearer, filling the interval between the resonances of the wicked drums, the more experience members of the Fellowship, the warriors, began to overcome that fear. They were warriors, and while the servants of the Dark were dangerous they had all fought Orcs before, and so the Prince of Mirkwood's warning was more welcome then one might think, as the simple verification of "Orcs!" severed to dispel the fear that had gripped them so tightly only moments before.

Boromir turned, running to the doorway they had come in by, quickly looking out in an attempt to find safe passage from the crypt that was quickly becoming a prison. Were it not for the experience that he did have in combat, and a fair amount of luck, he probably would not have been able to dodge the two arrows that buried themselves deeply in the door behind him, having only just missed as they passed him.

"Get back!" Aragorn ordered as Harry ran to help the man of Gondor close the doors, in order to provide them with at least a few short moments more to prepare. "And stay close to Gandalf!" the heir of Isilduir added as he ran to join the two at the doors, helping them move them shut.

"They have a cave-troll." Boromir muttered in a tone of ironic disgust, before moving away from the doors that Harry and Aragorn were holding shut, to catch the axes that Legolas and the twins were throwing to him to seal the door

Harry stopped then after securing the second axe, "It's no use."

The others nodded in agreement and hurried away from the door, back to where their three Elven companions stood, bringing arrows to the strings of their bows. As Aragorn hurried to ready his own bow, Gandalf drew his sword, the mighty Glamdring, and the Hobbit followed his example whilst keeping terrified eyes on the pair of all-too-fragile double doors that were beginning to shake with the strain the small monsters wanted to reek upon them.

Gimli, who had until that point remained kneeling, listless before the grave of his beloved cousin, rose with a roar, holding his axe at ready. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

First holes began to appear in the door, where Orcs were cutting through with axes, swords and claws, and the archers in their group managed to get several arrows off and thorough said holes to the target they provided, but not nearly enough to stop the inevitable. This was demonstrated all too quickly, as their last line of pre-battle defense was destroyed.

Violence, destruction, death, fear, chaos, mayhem, madness...are all among the words that can be used to describe a battle, to describe war.

That is the only way to describe the battle in the chamber of Mazarbul. The Fellowship was presently comprised of eight warriors, two of whom were wizards. They fought valiantly, even the four Hobbits, who had not spent many years past learning the ways of war and wielding weapons fought for all they were worth.

Whether it was by skill or by miracle or a combination two, the Fellowship made it for some time into the skirmish with no serious injuries of which to speak. It wasn't until the Orc's pet cave-troll used its club to smash part of the doorway in so that it could enter that they began to worry.

Samwise, who had been standing right in front of the monster managed to escape the swing of its mighty club by dodging under and rolling through the space between its legs. And when the confused and then livid troll turned to squash him, fortunately Boromir and Aragorn managed to pull it away from their friend by the chain the Orcs had been leading it by.

Seeing that this seemed well in hand, and that no one else seemed to be in dire straights, Harry turned to slaughtering as many Orcs he could, as expediently as was possible. He threw a few hexes at the troll whenever he got a chance, but he spent more time in killing any of the Orcs that tried to go near the warriors that were fighting the troll. That was the best he could really do for now, as even a wizard couldn't be everywhere at once. That was why he hated fighting in battles with friends at his side; he couldn't keep an eye on them, and the worry that he might find one of them, dead or dying, after the battle ended nagged at him throughout the entire encounter.

Therefore, he tried not to be too worried about it...until heard the worry in Aragorn's call of "Frodo!" He knew that the Man was a Ranger and before had been a warrior trained by the Elves of Imladris before that. If he was worried, then there was a reason. He almost didn't want to turn in the direction he'd last seen Frodo, hiding along the wall and staying as much out of the fighting as possible, by the far wall. He didn't really want to, but he did, to see...

The cave troll trying to catch the Ring bearer. Wonderful.

"Aragorn! _Aragorn!_"

The cave troll succeeding in catching the Ring bearer and pulling him out of his hiding place by the leg while Aragorn tried to fight his way over to the Hobbit. Even more wonderful.

"Frodo!"

Seeing that the Ranger wasn't that far from the Hobbit, he sent a quick series of stunners, hexes, and curses at the Orcs between Aragorn and Frodo, making the heir of Gondor's path much easier and faster.

Although, in retrospect, watching the man jump between the troll and the Hobbit wasn't overly reassuring. Stabbing the massive monstrosity with a hunting spear was good, but apparently not good enough, as the monstrous cave dweller was still able to whack the Ranger out of its way and into a wall, thereby knocking him unconscious, before pulling the spear out of its midsection and immediately going after Frodo, who had gone to the fallen man's side in hopes of waking him.

With a quick hex and a few swings of the sword he was wielding in his left hand, Harry managed to dispatch enough of his opponents to close his eyes and Apparate. Almost instantaneously, he appeared between Frodo and the troll with a loud "POP!" and was immediately confronted by, once again, how much more monstrous the monsters of Middle Earth were compared to their counterparts on his Earth. He didn't remember the mountain troll he, Hermione and Ron had confronted when they were in first year being anywhere near as massive.

Shaking the thought away, Harry dragged Frodo out of the way of the troll's new weapon, while firing a potent "_Expelliarmus!_" at his new opponent, successfully disarming it and blasting it back a few steps. With a short sigh, he watched the troll force itself forward again; he hadn't wanted to use magic like this in front of his new companions. The people of Middle Earth were especially suspicious of magic, they always had been, but using dark magic in front of a group of champions set on destroying one of the darkest works ever created...wasn't the best of ideas. The problem was that trolls were one of those creatures that had natural defenses that couldn't be penetrated by stunners, at least not a single or even a few stunners, so...

Wait! Ron had managed to knock the mountain troll out in first years by droppings its own club on its head, maybe...

He looked up at the balcony above them...it _was_ rather loose from when the troll had smash a large section of it out only a minute or two before...

His mind made up, he waited for the troll's charge. When it did charge, less then a moment later, he grabbed Frodo and Disapparated over to where Aragorn was with another loud "POP!" The troll ended up stumbling into the wall itself, and as the impact managed to shake some of the rocks above it even looser, the wizard raised his wand and shouted; "C_onquasso!_"

There was no way the troll could escape, the entire section of the balcony that was above it, the walls and columns around it, and the floor under it all shattered at the same time, effectively holding it in place, and then crushing it under tons of rubble.

The Fellowship had little difficulty dispatching the rest of the Orcs after that, as they had already ridded Middle Earth of many of them before the troll had arrived, but they could not pause and rest afterwards, as an equally exhausted Harry pointed out.

"We have to move...now." He nodded towards the Prince of Mirkwood, "As Legolas pointed out earlier, we cannot linger here. It is obviously not safe... And more will come."

"And soon," Gandalf agreed with a nod. "Come," he waived all of them towards the ruined remains of the doorway through which they'd entered the chamber. "We must make for the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. It is not far..."

**_

* * *

Near Lothlórien _**

Traveling by broom when the idea was first introduced to the Wizarding world could not have been overly comfortable. Magical broomsticks did not really become commonly comfortable until the year 1820, when the cushioning charm that allows witches and wizard alike to travel in relative comfort was invented. Many other charms were invented for said brooms, for speed and braking, for excitement and safety, for style and sensibility; broomsticks evolved from models like the Oakshaft 79, invented in the late nineteenth century, to the glorious Firebolt that professionals rode in the Quidditch World Cup in the late twentieth century.

Voldemort had certainly not expected to end up in another world when he attacked Hogsmeade, so neither he nor many of his followers had been carrying broomsticks. A few, like Lucius Malfoy, had had a shrunken Firebolt in his robes, a Slytherin through and through, but most had never even considered the chance of actually needing brooms. Even those that did have brooms only had them because they always did, out of their own habits of self-preservation.

Fortunately, some of the Death Eaters did work in the companies that mass-produced broomsticks for sale in the Wizarding world, and therefore knew, for the most part, how it was done. Some conferring was necessary, but after a few hours they were able to piece together brooms that were suitable for flight. The thirteen wizards that were riding them were given strict instructions to ride carefully, as these brooms weren't models but trial broomsticks, and there was no valid way that they could ensure their safety on them.

So here they were, high in the skies above Middle Earth, lost.

"Would you please explain how one of the most basic spells known to our people, a directional locater; could _possibly_ malfunction?!" Antonin Dolohov, appointed commander of the dozen other wizards that were flying with him, demanded of his subordinates.

"Wards?"

"_Wards?!?_" the older Death Eater spat, turning on the youth that had spoken instantly, all of the worries that had been accumulated since his lord made him commander coming out in a wave of severe aggression towards the young idiot that had imprudently answered the inquiry. "There are only two wizards not sworn to our lord in this world, one of them is an ally, the other is among the ones we're looking for!"

"Actually, I do believe our lord said that some members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore included, arrived in this world the same way we did."

Dolohov scoffed, "There is no way that even _Dumbledore_ would be able to erect wards powerful enough to completely block off tracking spells!"

"The wards at Hogwarts do, at his command."

"Many of those wards are as old as the school, over a _thousand _years old! It's not as though--"

"And the vast majority of the establishments in this world are much older." Eric Mulciber, the only other senior member of the group pointed out, a distinct note of boredom in his tone. When the others turned to state at him, he shook his head, "Think about it. Some of our enemies are _immortal_ - immune to old age and illness. Some of them have seen the sun rise and set on a new year thousands of time over. Muggles built the fortress of our lord's ally, Saruman, over two thousand years ago. The forest on the horizon is far older, as are the people that are native to it and the sorceress that governs it... Did you not bother to study any of this world's history upon our arrival here?" After a moment's silence in answer to his question, he shook his head, "Shame, it really is quite fascinating."

"The forest on the... You know where we are?!" Dolohov demanded, "why didn't you say anything?!"

"No one asked if I knew where we were. You only asked why the 'point me' spell might not work. I've no doubt that those woods could very well be the reason." Mulciber remarked, shrugging. "What's more, we really don't have any way of tracking the group itself anyway. We don't know who's in it, aside from the gray Istari, and he is obviously shielded in some way or another."

"Well where's the mine?!"

"In the mountain."

"Where is the _mountain_, you--?"

"Words, words, Dolohov. Do grow up some time soon, won't you? And we're only a few miles off course, we need only turn a little more towards the east and continue onward, we wi---" Suddenly his broom started bucking underneath him; as did the broomsticks his companions were riding.

"What the--?"

"What's going on?!"

There brooms had apparently become sentient and all had decided that they did not like their riders, and were therefore trying to buck them off. Most of these brooms were not model broomsticks, so the possibility of one being faulty did exist...but _all_ of them?!

After a few minutes of struggling with their brooms, the Death Eaters Mulciber managed to turn back and bring his broomstick to a stop a few yards away from his companions. When he tried to turn back to watch them, his broom bucked again, so he pulled back further. Realization dawned and he spared the distant forest a glance before calling out to the other Death Eaters, "Get over here! Get away from the forest!"

It took them awhile, as their mutinous brooms' refusal to cooperate was an immensely difficult impediment to overcome, but eventually they managed to reach the haven Mulciber had found.

Once he managed to catch his breath, Dolohov gasped out, "_What in Merlin's name was that?!_"

"Wards," Mulciber offered, obviously not oblivious to the fact that he was repeating what one of the younger Death Easters had said only a short while before.

"_**What** wards?_"

"The wards of Lothlórien, obviously," the older wizard replied, pointing the golden forest just barely within their line of sight.

"But...but the Istari said that the Elves are ardent supporters of the Light! A-And that the sorceress herself is known as the _Lady of Light!_"

Mulciber shook his head, "Just because magic is not Dark, does not mean that it is not dangerous, Dolohov... Come, we don't need to go near the wood to reach the Mines..."

**_

* * *

Bridge of Khazad-dûm, Mines of Moria _**

Had they been a less experienced group then they were, the Fellowship might have been surprised at how quickly their journey became difficult once again...

Apparently, the group of Orcs that they had fought and vanquished only a few long moments before had been mere scouting party, sent to test them before the masses that really conquered stole Moria and Dwarrodwelf from its Dwarven creators found them. It was only a few short moments after they left the chamber that they could hear them coming. Hundreds upon hundreds maybe even thousands of Orcs, all after their blood.

It wasn't until they were surrounded by the mini-demons, that Harry had decided that more magic was necessary, and Gandalf obviously wasn't used to wielding magic quite as vicariously as the wizards of Earth were, so...

"Everyone, grab onto one another!" He'd ordered, stepping over to Frodo and putting a hand on his shoulder. The twins, realizing what he intended to do, had obeyed without question; Camthalion grabbing Merry and Pippin, while Rúmil grabbed Sam and Legolas.

"What...?"

Harry had cut the Istari off, "There's no time to explain!" he insisted, watching as the Orcs closed in around them, "Just do it!" He'd then looked around, waiting until everyone was holding on to or at least touching someone else, and that they were all linked in some form or another, before closing his eyes and throwing his power out, grasping the image of the inside of Moria's East Gate distinctly in his mind before taking them all to it with a loud "pop!" that echoed around the Dwarf-built city, startling and confusing their would be slaughterers.

He had had plenty of time to master the art of apparition, so they did of course appear on the other side of the Bridge of Khazad-dûm...and still that indomitably Dark force of nature had found them, coming to the bridge to follow them into the world beyond the shadows. Barely able to stand after exerting the amount of will it took to take them through the Balrog's dark world, Harry then leaned back against the wall that led to the exit they'd been struggling to reach for so long.

"You cannot pass!"

"We have to help him!" Frodo insisted stepping forward, only to be dragged to a stop by one of the Míriel twins. Only those that knew them well could tell them apart without difficulty, as was the case with all Elven twins, so Harry and Legolas knew that the elf was Rúmil, but Frodo and the others still never called the twins by name because of the uncertainty. They couldn't really be faulted for it, as the twins never went to any pains to make it easier to tell them apart; same clothes, same hairstyle, same voice, same eyes, same face, same body, same weapons, and mentality and drollness that were all too indistinguishable.

"How?" the elf asked, holding the Ringbearer's gaze for a long moment before turning his attention back to the mêlée on the bridge.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor." Gandalf raised his staff, and the light they'd been following for the last four days flooded the area of the Mine they were in blinding them, before receding to form a shield of white light around the Istari that wielded it. "Dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûm!"

"We-We have to try!" Frodo insisted, watching as the petrifying being that Gandalf was facing brought a sword that seemed to be made of both raw darkness and searing flame down upon the shield of white light; shattering it.

"He has to do this, Frodo." Harry told him quietly, his exhaustion all too apparent in his eyes, body and voice as he leaned again the wall, watching. "If he doesn't, one of the nastiest terrors of ancient times will be released upon a world that has next to no means of fighting it."

"But..." Suddenly the Ringbearer's eyes lit up, as an idea obviously made itself known. "Your people fight with magic!"

"Yes..." the wizard replied slowly, not liking the turn in the conversation.

"So can't you help him?!" the Hobbit demanded.

Harry sighed, "The last spell I cast, the apparition, took a lot out of me. I could very easily do more harm then good... And any spell that I might use against that monster is not something I want to cast, nor do I want you to witness and comprehend it."

"Why?! You could save his life!"

"And I could make the problem much greater then it already is..."

The argument lost any drive when the Istari shouted, "_**You** shall not **pass!**_"

Another immense discharge of power, the power of the Light, filled the mine, blinding them so that by the time they were able to see again, it was only to see the bridge under the Balrog crumbling, and the monster itself falling into the abyss below.

Shocked at the extraordinary triumph, all the Fellowship could do, as Gandalf turned towards him, was watch in wonder as the Istari turned to come over to them. That wonder turned to utter horror as a dark whip of flame and shadow came up from the depths to wrap itself around the wizard's ankle and--

"_Abscido!_" Harry shouted, sending a beam of power born from raw adrenaline at the Balrog's greatest weapon. By some great twist of fortune, the spell was able to cut through the whip, that weapon that was so great that even the evil Ungoliant, the Great Spider that was so powerful that even the Valar could not destroy it was still driven from Melkor's lands by his Balrog guards and the very whip this one brandished against the Grey Wizard now. The dreaded weapon was broken and the monster fell into the chasm below, with no chance at retribution.

For a moment, the Istari wizard stayed where he was, staring at Harry and the wand that was pointed just to the right of his ankle, before looking down at said ankle, to see that which had nearly been his doom withering away, as its creator fell further and further away from it.

A moment of heavy silence hung over the cavern.

The silence was repressive, but still deferential and exultant.

It was broken by the sound of a bowstring being released, and they turned to see that several Orcs had managed to make it to the other side of the bridge and were firing at them. Most were falling incredibly short, but a few were good enough to make Legolas worry.

"We must leave, now!" Legolas insisted, as he drew his bowstring and the arrow notched to it back before releasing it, thereby eliminating one of the opposing archers, but not enough. The wicked horde seemed to have no end as the far edge continued to become more and more full even as Legolas brought another arrow back, released and notched another, all sailing off to bring down their targets; permanently.

"Legolas is right; come." Gandalf agreed, moving hurriedly past his waiting comrades, leading them to the exit as Legolas, Camthalion, Rúmil, and Harry kept up the rear.

By the time they neared reached the exit though, the cold feeling he often associated with the presence of Voldemort's followers telling him of their presence a moment too late.

As "_Avada Kedavra!_" echoed through the air, Harry Potter could not help Gandalf the Grey any more then he had been able to help Cedric Diggory at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. All he could do was watch in utter horror as the wave of sickening green light reached the Istari wizard; time seemed to slow down as though he could watch the destructive magic enter Gandalf's body, passing through it and eradicating all that was within...

Seeing the oncoming light, filled with palpable malice, Gandalf realized that it wasn't Moria that he truly had to fear; it was leaving the mines that should have filled the wizard with trepidation.

_**

* * *

End Chapter 18: Moria

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**_

**Translations:**

_Conquasso _- to shatter

_Abscido_ - to cut

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**Response to Reviews: Will be posted on the mailing list...eventually. ** **

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AN: Hi everyone! **

**Sorry this took so long! I had a little case of writer's block and I had some trouble with the ending...It was actually supposed to be more drawn out then it was, but I think I just got tired of rewriting it, so sorry if you don't think it's really up to par. I tried.**

**Once again, review responses will be on the mailing list. If you read the story on the mailing list, or don't like reviewing on , please post a review on the list. It really isn't that hard.** **I am having some trouble with the story, so if you really want more you'll have to keep encouraging me. Sorry, but if I start to feel at all depressed, whether it's from too much work, not enough sleep, too much school work, trouble with friends, writers block, whatever; writing fan fiction is almost the last thing that come to my mind. Fan Fiction is, essentially free. Are the following really all that difficult to come up with? :**

**- Encouragement**

**- Constructive criticism (NOT flames)**

**- Suggestions for the story**

**- Questions**

**- Fic Recommendations/Links**

**- Archive Recommendations/Links**

**- Other?**

**That's honestly what I started the list for. If there's nothing going on with it, why should I keep it?**

**

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Well...that's all for now. **

**Bye! **

**Jess S**


	20. Chapter 19: MMMM&M

Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

AN: Hi! Long time no see! I won't keep you, I just wanted to say 'hi!' and enjoy!

**There and Back Again** **by Jess S**

_**Chapter 19: Magic, Murder, Murders, Majesty, & Mandos**_

* * *

_** Lothlórien**_

"_What!_" If the lacking reactions of the Galadrim was anything to judge by, the Elves of the Golden Wood were apparently growing accustom to the 'mortals' their midst. Of course, that does not mean that the discordant chorus of incredulity was well-received, only that the patience of the Eldar had risen to a new level due to the trials of having beings with so little time in the world nearby. Now one would think that the stress these youthful beings brought into this Age-old world so intrinsically adapted to the peace, tranquility and beauty of the Eldar race would quickly enervate any member of said race, predominantly on those that needed to work with them. But despite the practicality of that hypothesis, it did not seem to hold true for the lord and lady of the Galadhrim, towards which the outcry that had broken the early morning hours had been directed. No, the two Eldars that had ruled the fair realm that they were guests in now did not seem to be bothered in the slightest by the skepticism of their wizarding company.

After a moment's pause, Lady Galadriel shook her head, "I should think that this news would please you."

"It wou--It _does_." Dumbledore assured her, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts while giving everyone else time to do the same. "But I must confess that...it is rather..."

"Impossible?" Sirius offered, his eyes not having left the exhausted form of his childhood friend since he had entered the room a short time earlier. He had been up all night, worrying about the great lunar orb that had been hanging high in the sky, and the effects he knew it would have on the other Marauder.

"Well..." the older wizard frown, and then nodded his head, "to our understanding of magic... yes."

"To your understanding; perhaps." Galadriel smiled, shaking her head. "To our understanding it is not."

"We are the Firstborn," her husband agreed, a strangely similar smile crossing his face as his eyes grew distant, as though reaching back to a time and place long before any mortal could imagine, searching for the distant memory the slumbered deep within all Elves, far, far back to when the first of the Eldar opened their eyes and saw the stars, so that the captured memory of that initial encounter; that point in time when all was perfect and the world laid before them was full of hope; optimism and anticipation, unmarred by the evils that Melkor would brusquely instigate. "To us...the world is magic. And no evil is indestructible, even the Ring of Power has a weakness... And the light of the Telperion could never be so wholly tainted; not with Tilion of the Silver Bow guarding it..."

Several moments of silence hung heavily in the air, as the idea of what they had been talking about for the last half hour finally started to sink in. Slowly, some of the looks of shock and disbelief changed to awe and joy, and finally the silence was broken to the first verbal sign of budding acceptance.

"So...that's it?" Hermione inquired, meeting the eyes of the wizard that had been her instructor in Defense Against the Dark Arts two years before. "You're not a werewolf anymore? You're just... Remus?"

"Not quite," Remus smiled, his fatigue from the trials of the previous night not managing to conceal his happiness at the news. "I am not a werewolf... But I can still take the form of the wolf. Like an Animagus."

"Ingenious..." Dumbledore shook his head, smiling benignly, that twinkle in his eyes that seemed to be an inborn attribute of his whenever he was in a good mood restored for the time being. "Simply ingenious..." he met the eyes of Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress and shook his head, "I do not believe anyone has ever considered trying that before."

"Altering the relationship between a wizard and the wolf-demon from that of werewolf to Animagus-wolf?" McGonagall shook her head, also smiling. "No, I do not believe it has been... It's not the sort of thing we'd be predisposed to consider. What made you think of it, if I may ask?" she inquired, turning everyone's attention back to the two royal elves.

"We did not," Galadriel smiled, shaking her head as her husband continued. "Elerossë and Ránëwén spent a great deal of time considering the matter some centuries prior to their return to your world. I believe it was Ránëwén that eventually suggested it, and Elerossë managed to fashion the spells we used by merging the magic of your world with the spells of healing and faith of the Eldar, as well as some amount of Istari magic."

"Harry did this?" Remus asked after a moment's silence, his eyes wide. "All of the spells? By himself?"

"Elerossë possesses an inner drive that few others can even relate to, Arminas." Galadriel offered him another smile, "When he sets his mind to something there are very few things that he cannot do. Now, if you will excuse me," she inclined her head slightly, "I must go check on our other guests."

After bidding the wizards' farewell, the lord and lady of the Galadrim descended down to the ground from the telain that their wizarding guests resided in, before turning to begin the relatively short journey to the healers' station.

"Has your Mirror offered anything of their travels?" Celeborn inquired as they made their way through the city.

"Of the Fellowship? No." The sorceress shook her head, sighing softly. "I can only assume that they were forced to make their way through Moria."

"And the evil that resides therein must be blocking much of your Sight."

"Yes."

"But Elerossë is still alive? He, Rúmil and Camthalion are still well?"

The former princess of the Noldor nodded, "Yes... As are Legolas, Mithrandir, Estel, and the other members of the Fellowship..."

"But?"

She sighed, closing her eyes tiredly and shaking her head compassionately. "They are all exceedingly weary... It has been a long time since I have felt Elerossë's strength so depleted. He has been using much more of his magic then he would like... He may soon be forced to draw on his life force itself."

Celeborn frowned, shaking his head, "Dan... He has made use of his magic in combat many times before now."

"Yes, but not in places so utterly consumed by darkness and evil... Even the time he spent in Mordor cannot compare. Sauron was quiescent, so he didn't need to fight anything outside the physical realm then… Whatever now controls Moria is a creature of Melkor, and a powerful one. Its presence would tire anyone able to sense it. And Harry has undoubtedly been using his powers to shield the others from its acrimony, while at the same time concealing them from the countless other perils the mine affords its visitors."

Her Sindarin husband shook his head worriedly, a frown marring his features as the pair made their way into the healers' main station and headed for the far end of the clinic, where the pair of Elves that had come from Elerossë's world; King Nolofinw and Healer Niwenna, lay, apparently still cataleptic.

"Have they shown any sign of waking?" Galadriel inquired of the Galadhrim healer that was stationed to watched over them, while examining the pair herself for any sign of change.

"No, my lady. They haven't even moved since we placed them here...they barely draw breath."

"Do you have any idea as to why this might be?" Celeborn asked, shaking his head, "Both Camthalion and Rúmil have stated that it did take them some time to adjust to the differences on Elerossë's world, but nothing that could cause a failing such as this."

"We have no way of really knowing anything, my lord..." the healer replied, shaking her head sadly. "This has obviously never happened before... It took the prince a few weeks to recover from his first journey, but we have always believed that that was simply because of the volatility of the spell that brought him here... and both of the Míriel twins were up and about only a few hours after their arrival. Ready for travel, even, barely a day later."

"Yes..." Galadriel nodded, frowning as she attempted, once again to reach the minds of the two elves before her, only to find that there seemed to be nothing there to grasp... It made no sense, seeing as they still drew breath. "Stand back, Idril, melda nin. I shall call them back with Nenya's Power."

"Be careful, melda nin."

The Lady of the Golden Wood spared her husband a tight smile as both he and the other elf backed away several steps, as instructed, before raising her right hand and holding it out over the prone for of the King of I'Silemnan. She closed her mind, reaching inward for her own inner strength, which she sent down her arm and through her hand to harness the Power of one of the Three Elf Rings, and sent that Power outward, to search for the wayward minds that had been so far beyond her grasp only a moment before. She did not know how much time past before she found her quarries, but find them she did. Having accomplished that, she gentle enveloped both minds in the warmth of compassion and kindness, before netting both in nets of compulsion, to pull them back to their far-off, quiescent corporeal forms. After waiting a moment for them to adjust, she released them once more, reeling her Power back in and opening her eyes to watch as the brilliant light that Nenya had been giving off gradually faded as its Power receded and returned to its normal state of dormancy. "Mae govannen, King Nolofinw, Healer Niwenna," she smiled, nodding gently to both Elves as they slowly rose, mindful of the apparently complete lack of strength and dexterity their bodies currently suffered from. "Welcome to Lothlórien..."

* * *

**_ The East Gate of Moria _**

The entire Fellowship watched in horror as the wave of ghostly green light engulfed their friend and leader. Time seemed to slow, very nearly to the point of stopping as the Istari was slowly blasted back from the entrance. Then he landed and time sped up again, and they could hear the Death Eaters shouting more spells directed towards them outside, and see strange lights, some like the one that had just hit Gandalf, some not, coming towards the entrance.

"_Protego!_" Harry shouted, sending a wave of blue light to the entrance, thereby shielding them from the multi-colored magical assault from the outside. "_Solido! Colloportus!_" With the first, the shield darkened to become a bluish-gray color and with the second and an odd squelching noise, the strange shield sealed itself to the mine's entranceway. The grayish color distorted a little, making loud noises and changing color when different spells collided with it. "_Mussitare_..." he commanded, muting the shields complaints before collapsing back against the wall and sliding down to the floor in exhaustion.

Silence reigned throughout the small area, broken only by the distant sound of the Orcs of Moria trying to find a way to pursue them.

"Gandalf?" Frodo's quiet inquiry broke the silence, and then there was a scrambling of many feet as they all hurried to their comrade's aid. The Ringbearer quickly raised his eyes to the fosterling of the Galadhrim. "What's happened to him? Is he all right?"

"He appears to be sleeping..." Legolas murmured, watching the Istari's wide open eyes, which appeared to be searching some distant horizon that none of them could see.

Harry frowned, before struggling to make his way over to their fallen friend, waving off both the helping hands that Rúmil and Camthalion offered. He half-stumbled, half-crawled over to the group, before kneeling beside the other wizard, and gently placing his index and pointer finger on the Istari's neck to feel for a pulse. It was strange... Gandalf's countenance looked far too peaceful for someone who had just been struck down with the killing curse. After several moments of searching, he shook his head, moving away from the fallen wizard before closing his eyes in sorrow. "He is dead."

"_What!_" Frodo's cry was echoed by nearly all of the others, though the Míriel twins had already backed away from the group, both in order to keep watch on the small corridor that led into the mines and because they already knew what Avada Kedavra was...

"Avada Kedavra," Harry murmured softly, his repetition of the lethal curse they'd heard only moments before sound far too gentle, too sympathetic, too mild... "It is a curse created long ago by dark wizards of my native world. It is also known as the Killing Curse."

"Then the wizards outside are the ones you came to warn us about?" Aragorn realized softly, clearly suppressing his grief in order to take up the function of leader, which Gandalf has assigned to him a short time before...when he was still alive.

"Yes." Harry confirmed as he made his way back over to the wall, and leaned against it, sliding down to rest on the filthy floor.

After several moments of heavy silence, Merry's soft inquiry startled all of them, "What are we going to do?"

"I honestly don't know..." Harry shook his head tiredly, "I used too much of my strength to get us this far."

"You cannot take us from here to the Golden Wood then?" Aragorn realized. "The way you brought us to the West Gate?"

"No..." Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "I can hold the shield for a time, but I don't have enough strength to do much more then that..."

"What about a Portkey?" Camthalion suggested, his voice respectfully quiet as he mourned the passing of their Istari friend.

Harry frowned, opening his eyes to glance tiredly over at his wife's cousin. "That might work..." he forced himself to rise enough to shrug his knapsack off, before pulling it around into his lap. After a few moments of rummaging around in the bag, he shook his head and set it down beside him, frowning. As he did so, his hand brushed by the elegant and effective pin that his kindred had long used to secure their remarkable traveling cloaks. The mithril pin was fashioned into the shape of one of the Leaves of the Golden Wood, with the main body of the leaf then coated in a soft, nearly clear, green paint, thereby leaving the mithril's innate tendency to shine through unhindered. "Uma...It should work... Give me a moment," he required of the others, who merely shrugged and nodded their consent, it wasn't as though they could go anywhere anyway.

"What did he say?" Gimli demanded in a loud whisper, sensing that the wizard needed quiet, but nonetheless wanting to know what was happening.

"What's he doing?" Pippin asked.

"Hush..." Aragorn ordered softly, trying to watch the way into the mines, the way out of it, and the wizard all at the same time.

"He is devising a means of escape," Legolas told them, his soft, melodic voice carrying to all of them in the heavy silence even as the area was lit up by the distortions of magical light at the shielded archway.

"With magic?" Pippin demanded excitedly.

"Yes," Aragorn told them, shaking his head, "now _hush!_"

Harry shook his head as he closed his eyes and forced his thoughts inward once more. He reached deep inside himself with his inner eyes, searching for something to connect him to the glorious Elven city that had long been his home on this world. The first thing that came to mind when he thought of home was, of course, his wife's face... He had used his memories of his beloved Ránëwén many, many times for just this purpose, as his magic had never had any trouble finding the other half of his soul... But she wasn't in Lothlórien now... With a quick, ruthless surge of raw soul magic he quickly suppressed the pain that welled up deep inside him at those thoughts and searched for another image, finally settling on his bedroom... It made sense; he was utterly exhausted, and whenever he'd returned home injured (which had been rather often...) he'd always awaken in his room, tucked safely away in his bed... So, with a swift thought, he wrapped his magic around that image and sent it into the broach, commanding it to hold the image and bring them there in a few short moments, "Camthalion... Rúmil..."

"Everybody, grab hold of each other!" Camthalion ordered, while grabbing his shoulder and the Hobbit, Sam's as well.

"Make sure that you're linked to Harry directly, or through someone else," Rúmil told them, grabbing Merry and Pippin after he saw that Merry had already followed those directions and had placed a hand on Harry's elbow.

Once he was sure everyone was connected, Harry murmured the appropriate word to activate the portkey, "_portus_," and cautioned them, "hang on everybody," before grabbing the pin. He felt the portkey's somewhat familiar tug at his navel before all went dark.

* * *

**_ Outside the East Gate of Moria _**

"What in Slytherin's name is that thing?" Dolohov demanded of his fellow Death Eaters as they continued to beleaguer it with an eclectic array of charms and hexes.

Mulciber rolled his eyes at the younger wizard's annoyance, "It's obviously a shield of some sort, Dolohov..." Why Lord Voldemort had seen fit to give this youth a position of power was well and truly beyond him. He'd much rather be following someone like Malfoy or even one of the less-than-sane Lestranges at the moment.

"I can see that!"

"Yes, well then why did you bother asking!"

"Because--"

"Sirs!"

Both wizards turned to the younger death eater that had interrupted their argument, "_What!_"

He pointed towards the mines entrance, "The barrier is fading!"

"What?" Dolohov looked over at the entrance, to see that the strange, blue shield that had been denying them entrance for the past several minutes was, indeed, fading. "Excellent... You three," he pointed to three closest to the mine, "move forward, attack as soon as the barrier itself is gone, you two," he nodded to the two death eaters closest to the original three, "follow close behind and cover them, you," he glared at Mulciber, "lead the attack. The rest of us will wait here and cover your backs."

"Of course, sir," Mulciber half-snorted, while moving forward to follow his appointed 'commander's' orders. "Well, you heard him," he snapped at the five others the idiot had assigned to the attack, "move!"

And so as the barrier rapidly faded away they gathered up around the entrance, waiting until there was nothing blocking the mines entryway before charging into the darkness. There was no one in the entranceway, so they moved further down into the mine, only to have to pull back out moments later, when the Orc archers that lived therein assaulted them with a seemingly endless barrage of arrows.

Mulciber frowned as he looked around the entryway. There was no other way out, and they couldn't go back the way they had come. He could feel the anti-appartion spell they'd cast hours before still in the air... "_Dammit!_" he snarled after several moments of thought. "Sir?" One of the trio that had been assigned to follow him into the cave inquired nervously. "They're not here; fall back." The older death eater shook his head, while leading the way back out into the sunlight.

"Well?" Dolohov demanded when he saw them, "Where are they? Surely you can't be so incompetent as to--"

"They portkeyed out."

"_What!_"

* * *

**_ Lothlórien, Healers Ward_**

"Lothlórien? Arda?" The Earth-born Elf King inquired, while slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position, warily allowing his traumatized muscles plenty of time to adjust to the movement. "The home of Rúmil and Camthalion Míriel?"

"Uma," Galadriel nodded, offering a kind smile as she nodded to the frazzled healer that was hovering a few feet away, anxious to look her now conscious patients over. After the foreigners had drained the small glasses of water that Idril had provided for their parched throats, she continued, overlooking the medicinal ministrations of the other she-elf with the ease born of plenteous practice. "I am Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Wood, and this is my husband, Celeborn. The Míriel twins woke and departed on a necessary venture some time past, we have been waiting for you to wake for quite some time. How are you feeling?"

Nolofinw glanced at the only elf he knew before awakening here and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Well enough, hannon le."

Healer Niwenna also nodded, offering a hesitant smile to the royal elves. "As am I... Though I must admit that I feel rather strange here..." She paused, concentrating for a moment before closing her eyes and shaking her head as she opened them once again, meeting the eyes of Lothlórien's Lady with only a small amount of reticence. "I am sorry... I cannot describe it..."

"I too feel somewhat odd..." the King of I'Silemnan offered after a moment's thought. "As though there is something calling me... It does not feel wrong, per say... just different..."

The Rulers of the Golden Wood shared puzzled frowns before Celeborn hesitantly offered, "Perhaps it is the Call of the Sea they feel?" he asked of is wife, shrugging slightly when her eyebrows shot up in response. "Camthalion did say that they were trapped on Earth, having long since forsaken the path to the Grey Havens..."

"That is true..." the Bearer of Nenya agreed softly, turning her bewitching eyes back to the pair. But before she could follow this tangent of thought, a powerful presence assaulted the wards of her Wood, drawing her attention away from the conversation at hand. Darkness was the first thing she sensed... Not the darkness that the moon journeyed through, but the darkness that evil found its' home in. Something that was absolutely evil in an unadulterated form was trying to enter her home...

There was something familiar about it though, she realized with a start, as she sent her powers out and narrowed in on its location. She then sensed the even more familiar presence of her beloved foster- son, and realized what had happened... It was confirmed by the presence of Camthalion and Rúmil. Then Legolas Thranduilion... And Estel Elrondion... a young dwarf lord...a nobleman of Gondor...and four Hobbits... And as her son--in-law had informed her of not long before, it was one of these small, typically cheerful beings that bore the Ring of Power...

_'Frodo..._' she sent out to the young Hobbit, searching for his reaction, to see just how far the Ring had managed to corrupt the young being. '_Your coming to us, is as the footsteps of Doom. You bring great Evil here, Ringbearer...'_ She first sensed surprise, and then worry and the fear associated with self-doubt. But no arrogance. No hatred. No irrational fear. Just healthy concern, shielding a very great inner strength...

'_I realize you take your duty's very seriously, amil-nin, dan..._'

Galadriel gave another quick start, before suppressing the amusement she felt at Elerossë's very cheek. Still, she knew he was truly exhausted, and they had never actually gotten around to testing just how much stress a portkey could take throughout its journey, so without further ado, she opened a momentary loophole in her powerful wards, to allow them entrance, and sealed it as soon as they had passed through. She then quickly found them again, once again suppressing amusement as she realized that Elerossë had deemed his bedroom a good place to enter the Golden Wood through...that amusement swiftly changed to concern, however, when she sensed that her foster-son was no longer conscious... '_Elerossë? My son, are you well?_' When she received no response, she withdrew into her own mind once more and opened her eyes...to find everyone in the room watching her anxiously.

"Melda nin?" Celeborn inquired, laying a gentle hand on her right shoulder as he met her worried gaze evenly.

"The Fellowship has arrived, melda nin. Elerossë is home."

"Are they well?" He asked with a frown, which only deepened when his brilliant mind made another leap of logic. "...Is Elerossë well?"

"Laa..."

"I Haryon Elerossë? They have returned?" "

Uma, the Haryon has returned, with the Míriel twins and a number of guests..."

"They are in need of medical attention?" One of the younger healers inquired, as Idril turned and began collecting supplies.

The older healer snorted, "Of _course_ they are in need of medical attention! Have the prince and the Míriel twins ever returned from an adventure unscathed?"

"Laa?"

"Laa..." Idril shook her head in exasperation, "Is one of the border patrols bringing them in?"

"Laa, they are here..."

The healer paused in her collecting, to turn confused eyes on her sovereigns, "Here?" she asked, "In Lothlórien?"

"Uma. In Elerossë's telain."

"_Hwæt!_"

"Uma," Galadriel nodded, ignoring the incredulity that was all-too-clear in the chorale outcry. "Now if you will excuse me, I'm afraid I must go, I do hope you recover quickly, and are able to join us for supper tonight or breakfast on the morrow?" she offered a kind smile to the elves from her foster-son's world, and another to the healers present, "You had best follow, Idril, and choose another to assist you, I doubt more then that are needed. I shall have Haldir meet us there, he was going to lead a patrol out for the next shift change, but that can wait."

"And do you have plans for me as well, melda nin?" Celeborn inquired, an amused smile playing across his face, even as his silvery eyes were still filled with unease.

"Laa," Galadriel raised an eyebrow, "dan I thought you'd be set on coming with me?"

"Of course..." the Elf-lord replied with a slight nod. "Then shall we be on our way?"

His only answer was a curt nod, before his wife turned on her heel and nearly flew away, her vividly white wardrobe giving her the likeness of an angel flying swiftly through the woodland realm.

_**

* * *

Lothlórien, Tinehtelë Talan**_

After centuries upon centuries of practice, Harry had finally gotten the knack of landing on his feet. However, even with centuries of practice, he couldn't make himself land gracefully while mostly unconscious. So, of the assorted assemblage that suddenly appeared above his bed in the Golden Wood, only the Míriel twins had enough practice with portkeying themselves to land on their feet -- albeit a bit roughly. Legolas nearly managed it, but ended up tumbling when the surface he landed on --the majesticbed -- gave way a bit beneath his feet.

As everyone slowly managed to pick themselves up off the floor, silence reigned throughout the room. Admittedly they had plenty of reasons to be quiet. First there the magical method of travel itself. Then there was the transition from being trapped in the entryway to dark mines - with Orcs inside and dark wizards outside - to what was obviously a very lavish bedchamber.

Then there was the realization that one of there number was not there.

"Where is Gandalf!" Frodo cried looking around, even as the other members of the Fellowship scrambled off the bed and/or up off the floor to look around. For indeed, the Grey Pilgrim was gone. "I was holding onto him before we were pull though! And so was Sam!"

"He should be here, then..." one of the Míriel twins frowned, his dark blue eyes puzzled as he and his twin scanned the room.

"Well then where is he!" the Ringbearer demanded.

"Perhaps one must be living, of the portkey to be effective?" the other twin pondered, meeting his brothers eyes contemplatively.

"No, tornnin," the first shook his head. "Remember, Elerossë told us that only the most sophisticated portkeys can be so selective, and he certainly wouldn't have wanted to leave Gandalf behind."

"But we _did!_" Frodo insisted, seeming to become more frantic with each passing second. "We left him th--"

"_No_, we did not." One of the twins cut him off sharply, "Calm yourself, Master Hobbit. Panicking hardly helps the situation. I'm sure Harry will be able to figure something out as soon as he recovers his strength."

That drew the group's attention to the other wizard that had joined them to aid their quest, making Merry and Pippin scramble off the bed, as they were the only members of the group that had not already done so.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked hesitantly, eyeing the wizard's sickly pale skin and shallow breathing.

Camthalion made his way over to the head of the bed, to lay a gentle hand on his cousin-in-law's forehead, suppressing a wince at how cool the wizard's skin was to the touch. "He overreached himself. Nothing a lot of sleep, food and perhaps some medical attention won't cure."

"Wizard's have limits on their powers?" Pippin asked, seemingly shocked at the very idea.

"Of course they do. Magic is merely another way of expending strength. They need energy to do it. The more they train themselves to handle that energy and whatnot, the longer it takes to reach their limits, but it can happen."

"What's more, Elerossë has been through a great deal lately." Rúmil pointed out, shaking his head slightly out of sadness. "Much of the power used to transport everyone from his world to ours undoubtedly came from him. With the circumstances surrounding that, and all of the troubles we had in finding you and helping you get here, it isn't any wonder that he's managed to strain himself."

"So he just needs to rest?" Merry asked, a bit uncertainly.

The twins both suppressed smiles at the Hobbits obvious concern for their cousin's husband. He was like a brother to them, after many years of camaraderie. But after only a few days in his company, the Hobbits cared for him. As did the other members of the group, though they didn't show it quite so openly.

"Essentially, yes."

"Well that's good," Boromir of Gondor offered with a sigh, turning his admittedly concerned gaze from the wizard to the elf that stood at the bed's head. "But where are we?"

"Lothlórien." The other twin replied, "And we'd best move to the outer rooms, to accommodate both those who are undoubtedly on their way to greet us and out sleeping companion."

"Of course," Camthalion agreed, "it is Elerossë's house after all."

"It is?" Frodo asked, looking around the room.

"Yes, and we really should move to the outer rooms. I'd rather not see my uncle's reaction to Elerossë arriving in the Lórien unconscious again, so soon after the last time."

"_It's a bit late for that._"

All the members in the Fellowship froze for a moment at the coldness in the interruption -- event those who couldn't understand Elvish recognized the slight-but-nonetheless-existent-hostility in the newcomer's voice. Then they turned, some recognizing the Marchwarden of Lothlórien, others not.

"Haldir, mae govannen!" Rúmil greeted him in a quietly cheery voice, as though he hadn't been about to agree with his twin's comment. "It's wonderful to see you again, but do you think we might be able to move into the outer rooms before undergoing the interrogation?"

The Marchwarden gave a curt nod, before stepping into the room and to the side of the doorway, gesturing for them to move through.

The twins glanced at each other, and with a barely repressed sigh, led the way into the hall and through it to the common area.

The remaining members of the Fellowship followed, hesitating for various reasons. Some glanced at Harry before leaving. Others didn't seem to want to pass the Marchwarden himself. And then, of course, they had to face the worry that assailed their minds when they saw the numerous Galadhrim guards that stood along the walls, by the windows, the door and every entry to the common area.

"Now, how did you come to be here?"

Before any of the members of the Fellowship could reply, the guards were stepping aside to allow a beautiful Elven-Lady entrance to the telain's common area. She was followed shortly by an Elven-Lord and two other Elves who appeared to be healers. "That's hardly necessary, Haldir."

"Dan, hiril nin--"

"_No_. Elerossë obviously brought them here. And he went through a great deal of effort doing so. He is in his bedroom, I believe?"

"Uma, hiril nin..." the Marchwarden nodded, watching as the two healers hurried out of the room in the direction of bedchambers. "Even if Elerossë-hur brought them here himself--"

"If? What do you mean if? How else could they have come to be here?" Celeborn inquired of his head of security, clearly -- at least to those who knew him well -- amused. "Surely you do not mean to suggest that there is any other way for them to come to be here without your knowing?"

"Laa, of course not, my lord," Haldir growled, "but as Elerossë-hur is not conscious to speak for them..."

'_He has spoken for them,_' Galadriel interrupted, calmly catching the Marchwarden's gaze to continue their conversation quietly, '_when they passed through my wards, he needed my help to do so. He 'spoke' then. And Elrond of Imladris has spoken for them as well... We have known of their noble quest since they set out from Elrond's realm._'

Haldir nodded, bowing his head slightly to his lord and lady's decision.

Celeborn, meanwhile, was looking at the assorted group, a deep frown settling across his lip and around his eyes. "Eight of the nine that set out from Rivendell are here." He murmured, his soft voice echoing around the room in an almost eerie manner, which may have seemed reminiscent to the Fellowship of the topic the Elven Lord was bringing up. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him..." he shook his head slightly, and looked down as he murmured the last part, almost to himself, "I can no longer see him from afar."

Galadriel then sent her mind outward also, startled to remember that she had not noted Gandalf's presence with the group as it entered her wood. In fact, as her beloved had already noted, she too could not sense his presence at all, as if he no longer walked Middle Earth. It was only after noting this that the company's almost palpable sadness at this topic caught her attention, and drew her searching gaze to the 'young' son of Thranduil. "...Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land..." she murmured, sadness settling over her features as well, as the information solidified itself in her mind and heartfelt horror took its place in her gaze. "He has fallen into Shadow..."

After a moment's pause the Elf-Prince nodded, "He was taken by both Shadow and Flame... a Balrog of Morgoth..." he murmured, breaking eye contact with the Elven Sorceress and looking down despondently, "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria..."

Galadriel frowned, shaking her head as she forced her face to clear into the calm expression most were used to seeing, before drawing the attention of the sad company back to her once more. "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," she pointed out, meeting the searching gazes of the Fellowship unflinchingly, "we do not yet know his full purpose." She did not smile, but she did note that everyone in the room seem to find some measure of comfort in her words. Though the dwarf, the ringbearer, and the man of Gondor seemed to be mostly unaffected in their sadness. Sending her mind out to skim the dwarf's surface thoughts she shook her head, "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli son of Glóin," she told him, while offering a compassionate smile at his loss, "For the world has become full of peril. And in all lands love must now mingle with grief." She then turned her gaze to the eldest son of Gondor's steward, holding it as she skimmed his mind for any sign of the Ring's corruptive power, her eyes cold as she found it in the fears the kind-hearted man felt in regards to his country, kinsmen, people and family. She nonetheless forced her way through it, and offered silently, '_Even now there is Hope, Boromir of Gondor... if you can only bring yourself to see it..._' With that she withdrew, to offer the Fellowship more consolation, before focusing on the Ringbearer. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. You will now be led to guest quarters, where you can rest. Food shall be made available, but I advice you to get as much sleep as you can, for you are weary with sorrow, and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep with us..." '_Welcome, Frodo of the Shire...one who has seen the Eye..._'

Celeborn then gestured to the guardsmen, meeting the Marchwarden's eyes once more. "They are our guests, see to it that they are comfortable."

Haldir nodded, before leading the way out of the telain, keeping his eyes on the assorted group of individuals that they had now become keepers to...

Galadriel watched them go, before turning to make her way to her foster-son's bedroom. She would spend the afternoon caring for Elerossë, and then perhaps take supper with their wizarding guests once more. But tonight she would have to test the Ringbearer... the quest now stood upon the edge of a knife, so they could not be allowed to stray from their path... Perhaps she should be kinder to him, but these were not kind times. And they all had so much to lose...

**_

* * *

Dol Guldur_**

"I am...disappointed in you, Dolohov," Voldemort murmured, his quiet voice echoing around the chamber that he had claimed for a throne room to receive his followers in. "Our ally offers us so simple a task, and you see fit to fail in fulfilling it?"

The younger wizard that was kneeling before him trembled ever so slightly, in fear as he fervently offered, "I am sorry, Master... We--"

"_Sorry? _Oh, and I suppose that makes it all better then?" the Heir of Slytherin sneered, shaking his head. "No, Dolohov. You had your chance. And I don't have time for fools."

Dolohov shot up from his position on the floor his eyes wide, "_Master--!_"

"_Avada_ _Kedavra_."

The failure was only halfway up from the ground when the waive of lethal lime light washed over him.

Voldemort sneered again; glancing over towards the lower ranking Death Eaters that stood guard by the door, "Dispose of that."

As his lower ranking minions moved to do his bidding he turned his eyes back towards his elite. He hadn't thought Dolohov really deserved a place amongst them, so he wasn't too disappointed to find out that he'd been right.

"You have a question, Lucius?" he inquired, sensing the regal inner circle member's cautious curiosity.

After a moment the pureblood icon nodded, stepping forward slightly with a bow before replying. "Yes, Master... I was wondering how we might fix this?" "Yes, how indeed?" Voldemort nodded, not really paying attention as he waived the man to continue. "We could, perhaps, trace the portkey and continue our search from there? Hunt them down?"

"No." The Wizarding Dark Lord shook his head, "I know where they are. Or, rather, Sauron does. And the wards of the Forest of Lothlórien are apparently a work of art...We wouldn't stand a chance of reaching them... No, we shall have to wait on that account... And perhaps move up our other plans. How are the improvements on our ally's armaments and army coming?"

"Quite well, my lord." Malfoy replied, bowing again, though not as deeply, "I'm afraid not much can be done for the soldiers intelligence, but we have been able to provide them with better blades, and the various imprints we have been laying in their minds for strategy and the like should keep them under some semblance of order in battle."

"Good...you may continue working with that project." Voldemort nodded, rising from his throne regally and making his way to one of the side doors. "You are dismissed. All of you."

As his Death Eaters shuffled out through the main entranceway, he made his way into the small room to the right of his throne. The room was almost entirely empty, boasting nothing but what appeared to be a large, black crystal ball, which happened to be glowing red. That red solidified into a red eye, making it an almost identical match to the stone that Saruman kept in Isengard, and the Steward of Gondor kept in his tower...

* * *

**_ Halls of Mandos_**

_Life_…

He could feel it again, both within him and around him…

_Change_…

He felt that too. He was different. Everything was different…

_Warmth_…

That was one of the changes. It had been cold before, in Moria. And then hot, when the Balrog came.

He wasn't mortal, but he wasn't completely immune to nature's whims, and the young Pippin had certainly complained enough to make him aware of the mine's bitter temperatures…

Nevertheless, he wasn't cold anymore. And he wasn't hot.

The air that caressed his cheek had lost some of its edge to the warmth that was radiating from something not too far away. That was all it held, however... other than that it was totally and completely empty...

Natural fire, he realized. That's what it was. Somehow, a good-sized campfire was crackling away merrily in the empty environment. And something was being cooked on it. What it was, he didn't know, but he could smell it… some type of Elvish brew, if he had to guess.

"Mae govannen, Mithrandir," a cultured, harmonious voice offered softly, confirming one of his insights.

It was the voice of an elf, to be sure. Foreign tongues simply couldn't do their wondrous language the same justice its native speakers could. Though truthfully he hadn't even considered that his companion might be an elleth, or even female.

He could sense her now too. She was the only living being nearby. She was young, as elves went, but experienced, the type of semi-wise Elven lady he wouldn't be surprised to happen upon in an Elven community. But the same couldn't be said for encountering her while on the Quest to destroy the One Ring of Power...

There was something off about her too. Something that just wasn't quite right. Her aura was that of a warrior, one who was recovering from grim injury, but it was also still the aura of a gentle lady… one of significant _magical_ power… A sorceress? Far too young to be Galadriel of course, but perhaps an apprentice? But she had not taken one in centuries, not since her last, and only, as far as he knew, had departed from Middle Earth…

"Would you care for some miruvor?" His companion inquired politely in the common tongue, apparently not the least bit perturbed by his continuing silence.

After a moments consideration he sighed as he forced his eye lids open, for they had been closed in death, and pushed himself into a sitting position, watching as a thick woolen blanket that had been covering him fell away, exposing much of his upper half to the chilled air. He quickly drew the white robe on his shoulders shut, before turning his attention to the elleth beside the fire.

She was lovely, to be sure, perhaps even one of the few that might be compared to the Evenstar. With unblemished, radiant skin, full lips forming a gentle smile, long, dark hair and dark..._violet_ _eyes_.

The Istari blinked, "Lady Ránëwén?" he murmured, surprise coloring his tone as he stared at the Lady of Lothlórien's former apprentice, and daughter-in-law, if he recalled correctly.

The elleth offered a brighter smile with her nod, "Greeting, linyenwa mellon nin."

**End Chapter 19.**

_**Translations:**_

_The Telperion_ - The last flower of the Silver Tree of the Valar, placed by Varda, Queen of the Valar and the Stars in a silver vessel to become the Moon.

_Tilion of the Silver Bow_ - A Maia who once He once served Oromë the Huntsman. However, after Varda created the moon, he was chosen to be both its guardian and its guarding spirit. "Ever since the rising of the Moon, he has labored each night to carry the silver vessel and flower through the heavens."

_Mae govannen_ - "Well-met"/Welcome

_Protego_ - to defend (shielding charm)

_Solido_ - to make firm/solid

_Colloportus_ - Seals a door, making an odd squelching noise. colligo - to bind together portus - door

_Mussitare_ - to keep quiet about a thing

_Portus_ - door (traditional portkey charm)

_Hannon_ _le_ - Thank you

_Amil_-_nin_ - My mother

_Melda_ _nin_ - My love/Beloved

_Laa_ - No/Of course not

_I Haryon_ - The Prince

_Uma_ - Yes

_Dan_ - But

_Tornnin_ - My brother

_Miruvor_ - "The reviving cordial of the Elves, a liquor with the power to grant renewed vigor and strength. Miruvor was clear and colorless, with a pleasant fragrance. Gandalf carried a flask of it with him to help the Company of the Ring on their southward journey. Both the Dúnedain and the Orcs possessed drinks with similar properties, but miruvor was known to be the most potent of these cordials." The Encyclopedia of Arda http/ http/ _Linyenwa_ _mellon_ _nin_ - My old friend Response to Reviews: Are no longer allowed on So if you would like a response please leave a signed review or an email address. OR Review on the mailing list.

AN: Hi everyone! Sorry for the _ATROCIOUSLY_ LONG wait! I hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter out soon...

Believe or not, constructive and/or useful feedback really does help. I like receiving compliments and congratulations as much as the next person, but suggestions, constructive criticism, potential random tangents to make the story more interesting (which I need to keep _me_ interested), etc., are ultimately more helpful when it comes to the fics construction and production... If you can't think of anything for the future, then by all means, just tell me what you liked and what you didn't, and basically remind me that there are people waiting for updates. That can be helpful too... Anyway, I hope everyone had a GREAT year (since according to I haven't updated in over a year...although I don't think it's been that long), and hopefully I'll be updating again soon.

Those of you that are on the mailing list already saw this chapter...over a month ago, I believe...this was the revised and editted version, but still mostly the same thing. I might be able to get the next chapter out soon, or I might not. But I will be trying.

**Bye (for now?)! **

**Jess S**


	21. Discontinuation Notice

**Hi everyone!**

**It's been pointed out to me that I should post a message in There and Back Again, telling readers that it's been discontinued. So here it is.**

**I started posting the revision—Elda Kundu, Kurutar—a few months ago. You can find it in my bio.**

**Sorry for any inconvenience this causes anyone, and thank you for reading.**

**Hope you like the rewrite.**

**Bye for now! ^_^**

**~ Jess S**


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